Frames of Frozen Time
by jhm.59
Summary: A look at 'frames' of William Tavington's life, from birth to death.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: For this and all future chapters, I own no one from the Patriot.**_

It was an unusually stormy June evening on the outskirts of Liverpool, England. The wind whipped through the trees and lightning flashed against the windowpanes of the sprawling Tavington home. Within the vast rooms and halls of the house, its master paced anxiously in the entryway, not even bothering to light a candle in the dark. Thunder rumbled and bright flashes lit up the entrance, but he hardly noticed. All Garrick Tavington could do was continue to pace and wait while trying to block out the whimpers and screams that came from the master bedchamber above. His wife, Katherine, was in labor, about to give birth to their first child, and though he supposed he should have been excited at the prospect, fear and anxiety had a much tighter hold..

Garrick was twenty-three years of age, and he and Katherine's marriage had been family-arranged when he was twelve; she was four years his junior, and the two had wed when he was nineteen. Their first year of marriage had been an awkward one, seeing as neither of them knew much of the other save for what they had experienced when the members of the British aristocracy gathered together for socializing. However, he had grown to feel affection for her despite this and she returned it in kind. Still, things didn't always work out in such favourable ways.

Shortly after they had married, it was expected by both families that Garrick and Katherine produce an heir. Of course, this was much more easily said than done, for even though Katherine did, in fact, become pregnant within six months of their marriage, she suffered a miscarriage just before her first trimester had ended. Greatly disheartened by the loss, both put off any effort to try again for over a year afterwards, though their obligation to their families was not ignored and at the age of seventeen, Katherine became pregnant for the second time. This stirred up excitement in both families, and even Garrick was able to feel a sense of eagerness. His young bride, however, couldn't help but feel a twinge of trepidation at times, though for the most part remained optimistic, especially after the first trimester and into the beginning of her second. Though events would once again take a devastating turn when she miscarried yet again, four months into the pregnancy.

Exhausted and discouraged beyond belief, Katherine grew so despondent that Garrick's father had taken him aside on his own and told him in quite an irritated tone that if an heir wasn't produced within the next year, it would almost be better to have an affair with a woman who _would_ give him one. At least then the bloodline would survive, even if it was through a bastard. Garrick's only response was a wordless nod in agreement, though he had decided to make that an absolute last resort, believing that there was still a chance with his own wife. But Katherine remained distant for quite some time and all he could do to avoid the ultimatum was assuage her fears of what a third pregnancy might result in. It wasn't easy and there were times when Garrick had even thought about reconsidering his father's words. Yet just when pressure from his family was reaching its full strength, Katherine yielded to him for a final time and became with child once again. The news brought only the mildest of reactions as everyone was now waiting to see if she would be able to bring the baby to full term. Garrick's father, already heavily in doubt, had privately remarked that Katherine had become a curse, that she would miscarry once more and the Tavington name would be doomed. However, as the months slowly crept by, there was no miscarriage and as her due date drew to only being weeks away, nearly everyone experienced the familiar anticipation, as they were more than sure that there would not be another incident like the two before. Now all that was left to do was hope that the child was a boy, an heir who could carry the prestigious name of his forefathers…

Another shrill cry tore Garrick Tavington from his thoughts and he shut his eyes tightly as if the action of doing so would block the anxiety and nervousness out.

"I need to get away…"

Of course, he couldn't go too far. Though he did manage to leave the screams behind, heading out of the entryway and striding through a series of halls until he reached the wine cellar, knowing that Katherine would be taken care of by the midwife.

Lighting a candle as he stepped into the cellar, Garrick walked amongst the many bottles of wine and spotted one of his liking, wasting no time in taking it out to pour a glass. The crimson liquid had a bittersweet taste to it and with each glass he drank, Garrick's anxiety dulled while he continued to wait for any news, leaving the cellar and going to the estate library to watch the hours slowly ebb away on a large, old, dusty clock that counted down the hours and minutes with soft ticks and an eerie chime.

Setting his glass down next to a candelabrum that he had lit from the single candle he had had with him in the cellar, Garrick clenched his fists and jaws, a glazed expression clouding his intense, white-blue eyes. Worry was once more beginning to get the best of him, causing his thoughts and emotions to race.

_What if the child was a girl? Yes, she would be better than no child at all, but she couldn't carry the name… What if something terrible happened and the child was stillborn? What if something happened to Katherine as well?_

Unconsciously, Garrick had begun to shake. Reaching once more for his wineglass, he found it empty and cursed softly, moving to get the bottle of wine he had left in the cellar to refill it when one of the servants appeared at the library entrance, her cheeks a very rosy hue of red.

"Master Tavington," She said breathlessly, "The other servants and I have been looking all over for you."

"Well?" Garrick's voice was slightly colder than intended. "What is the news?"

"Come and see your wife and son."

Garrick's eyes widened before he found himself sighing in relief, getting up to move towards the entrance of the library.

"And he is healthy?" He asked eagerly, picking up the candelabra but completely disregarding the wineglass.

"The midwife says they are both perfectly healthy. And apparently, the little one already seems to resemble his father in appearance."

Garrick gave her a rare smile, his steely eyes shining with pride while the light of the candle flames danced across them.

Dismissing the servant, Garrick wasted no time in heading up to the master bedchamber. The room was lit with only enough candles to cast a soft, warm glow throughout it while Katherine lay in the large, ornately carved bed, propped up on pillows, her dark brown hair soaked with sweat and sticking to her neck and face, which seemed to have turned several shades paler than its normal tone during labor. In her arms, wrapped tightly in linens was his son, red in hue and crying loudly, with a shock of dark hair.

Looking up to see her husband standing in the room, Katherine managed a tired smile and motioned for him to come closer.

"Here is your son." She handed the bundle to Garrick as he sat down beside her.

"My heir… my son..." Garrick murmured, looking down at the crying baby in his arms. The midwife had been correct. His resemblance to his father was obvious and though his eyes were still grey, Garrick knew they would most likely turn to blue seeing as both he and Katherine had blue eyes, his being the lighter hue.

"Garrick," His wife's soft voice pulled his attention away from his son, "what shall we name him?"

Both of them had come up with names to choose from, but Katherine had allowed the final decision to fall on her husband's shoulders.

Garrick looked down at his son once more; the newborn had ceased his loud cries but still whimpered in his arms.

"William." He responded in a quiet, yet definitive tone. "His name shall be William."


	2. Chapter 2

"I say, he _is_ a bit small, Garrick." Cynric Tavington said to his son as the two of them observed Katherine playing with the toddler William just outside the back of the estate. The man had never quite taken to Garrick's wife, even if the match had been a wise one in the eyes of the aristocracy. To him, she was much too soft and her misfortune in bearing heirs had done little to help. And now it appeared to him that his only grandson was taking more after her in stature and mannerisms than his father. Katherine looked every inch the aristocrat, and was most certainly a pleasure to the eye. But in Cynric's view, she was far too kind.

"Father, he is only three." Garrick responded with a light air of defense. "He has time enough to grow."

"Garrick, when you were his age, you were several inches taller, and looked significantly healthier." His father replied in a flat tone.

Garrick sighed, but continued to watch his wife and son.

"He is only getting over a cold." He spoke quietly.

"Exactly my point!" Cynric replied. "And anyway, why has your dear wife not left him inside with one of the servants? Does she wish to become ill as well?"

Garrick bit his lip, looking down and away from his father while Katherine chased a giggling William around a rosebush before he dodged behind a large rock. Smiling to herself, Katherine began to wander around, pretending to not know where her son had run off to.

"Now, where has my little Will gone?" She asked, looking in a nearby shrub.

A muffled laugh issued from behind the rock. Smiling to herself, she walked up to the rock and peeked behind it.

"Ah ha! There is my little angel." She said with a chuckle.

"Mama!" He reached up to her. "Up, please…"

"All right…" Katherine reached down and picked him up, kissing his forehead but pulled away when he sneezed, rubbing his nose.

"Mama, I'm sleepy." He murmured, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Yes, I believe it is time you had a nap." She said, reaching up to stroke his dark brown hair.

Turning towards the house, she started along the path towards her husband and father-in-law.

"Already tired, is he?" Garrick asked as she approached them.

"Well, he has been up since six this morning, and it is almost noon." She replied.

"Very well." Garrick nodded before turning his gaze to a servant who was making their way towards them.

"Master Tavington, dinner is ready."

"Thank you, Blythe. We'll be in shortly. Though I would like it if you could take my son in and up to his room. It is time he had a good nap."

Blythe nodded but before she could take William from his mother, Katherine shook her head and said, "No need to take him, I will bring him up myself. Just go on ahead and make sure everything is in place." She finished with a smile.

Blythe looked over at Katherine and then over at Garrick who shrugged and nodded in response, dismissing her with a wave of his hand before he turned to his wife.

"I'll see you shortly then."

"Indeed…" She responded with a small, formal smile; it would have been warmer, but the presence of Cynric and the cold air he seemed to always have about him always seemed to unsettle her, making her resort to manners of propriety. And it didn't help that Garrick himself seemed to get in a mood whenever the Tavington patriarch came to visit.

Bidding them a quiet good bye, Katherine took William back into the house, up a flight of stairs, past several corridors to his room.

"Mama…" William pulled away from her shoulder, yawning sleepily. "Tell me a story."

"Not right now, my dear." Katherine replied with a chuckle, setting him down in a little chair and stooping to remove his black, silver-buckled shoes. "Perhaps later, when your grandfather has left."

"But I can't sleep without a story." Her son protested.

"Well then, you will just have to stay awake." Katherine said in a teasing voice.

"Mama," William frowned, "please?"

"I am sorry my dear, but not now. Still," She spoke, sitting down in a rocking chair next to his bed, "I think you will be able to go to sleep without it. Come here."

Smiling eagerly, William walked over to his mother and clambered his way into her lap, where she wrapped her arms around him.

"Close your eyes..." Katherine whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek.

William did so obediently and waited silently for whatever was to come. Slowly, Katherine began rocking them back and forth, humming softly as she stroked her son's hair, knowing that within minutes, he'd be asleep. Sure enough, little William's eyelids began to droop and he shifted, trying to bury himself further into his mother's arms while the relaxing, soporific humming of her voice lulled him further into sleep. When at last his breathing had slowed and he was all bur curled up in her lap, Katherine carefully took him and tucked him into bed.

"Sleep well, little one." She whispered, tracing the outline of his left cheek with her finger.

Turning to leave, Katherine startled at the sight of Cynric standing only feet from her, observing her silently through steely eyes.

"Still here Katherine?" He asked, his voice crisp with a bitter taste to his words.

"I am sorry, sir." Katherine bowed her head apologetically. "I wanted to make sure he was asleep before I left." She answered truthfully. "He has had trouble lately getting to bed, and becomes afraid if I simply leave him in bed awake. Otherwise, he is perfectly fine."

"Katherine, you could have allowed Blythe to take care of it. I am sure he would have been fine." Cynric spoke with the same crisp tone as he walked up and stood next to her, looking down at his sleeping grandson.

"Perhaps…" Katherine bit her lip nervously and attempted to look away from him.

"My dear, you are too soft on him." Cynric smirked, placing a hand on her shoulder while Katherine did her best not to squirm in response. "Let him be, and if he wakes, so be it. He will learn fast enough. In the meantime, let us go back downstairs. After all, it would not be wise of you to stay up here and catch the same cold your son is getting over." He finished in a patronizing tone, holding out his arm for her to take.

Nodding wordlessly, she reluctantly took her father-in-law's arm and allowed him to escort her from the room where a silent meal awaited them in which Cynric left shortly thereafter and Katherine was free to go upstairs and check up on her son. Finding him still asleep, she left the room, finding Blythe in the hallway, dusting some of the portraits.

"Blythe, could you come here for a moment?" She asked.

Giving a small nod, the servant shuffled over to her and gave a small curtsy.

"Is there anything I can do for you, mistress?" She asked.

Katherine wrung her hands nervously before asking, "Am I too soft on him?"

Blythe lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"My son… Do I worry too much for him?" She explained, hoping for an honest answer. Blythe herself was about her age and already had a young girl of her own who was a couple years older than William.

The servant hesitated before looking up at her mistress and shrugged.

"I suppose it would depend on how one views good parenting. Though he does see more of you than the servants. But it's not necessarily a bad thing. Of course, we have to let them grow and learn on their own sometime. Still, I believe it to be a good thing that the young master knows you better than he does me." She finished with a shy smile.

"Thank you, Blythe." Katherine replied, her blue eyes sparkling. "My apologies for asking such a question. I guess part of this is… Garrick's father."

"I understand, my lady." Blythe said with a nod. "And yes, I suppose he is more the traditional type. Though it seems as if many of your class are."

Katherine laughed.

"Indeed, he is _very_ traditional. I just want William to be happy, and know that his mother is _not_ a governess."


	3. Chapter 3

A bleary eyed William awoke at half past five in the morning, blinking in the darkness of his room. But his fatigue soon gave way to joy and eagerness as he jumped out of bed and raced out of his room and down the hall to the door leading to the master bedchamber. Luckily for him, they hadn't been completely closed and he crept inside, grinning from ear to ear, barely able to contain his excitement while his parents slept soundly, blissfully unaware of their young son's presence. Stalking up to his father's side of the bed, little William gathered himself and leapt up onto the bed, right on top of Garrick's chest.

"William!" Garrick gave a muffled cry of surprise.

"It's Christmas, Father!" William cried with glee, wrapping small arms around his father's middle.

"Yes, it is. And it is still dark. Come now, William. Give us at least another thirty minutes."

"Oh Garrick, you do spoil the fun…" Katherine had awakened in the commotion and couldn't help but laugh at her husband's reaction as she reached out and pulled her son into her lap, tickling his sides and belly.

William let out a shriek of laughter, writhing in his mother's arms while Garrick groaned, turning over in bed.

"All right my dear, let us leave the room so your father can sleep in peace." Katherine spoke, kissing her son's forehead before pulling him up into a sitting position.

"Is there snow outside?" William asked, his bright eyes wide with enthusiasm.

"I have not looked, but we can see…"

To this, William gave a cry of glee and tugged at his mother's hand.

"Well, go on. I will be with you soon." Said Katherine, ruffling his hair.

William nodded and got off the bed, hurrying out of the room while Katherine momentarily turned her attention to Garrick.

"My apologies for the disturbance." She said quietly, resting a hand on Garrick's arm. "But he is only a boy. Can you honestly fault him for it?"

"I suppose not." Garrick turned to face her, the right corner of his mouth turned the slightest bit upwards. "Still, he is lucky he has you for a mother lest he be unable to find someone to help him out of trouble."

Katherine sighed before leaning down to kiss her husband's cheek.

"Only because you allow it, Garrick." She spoke softly in his ear. Then, rising from the bed, she got up and left the room, closing the door behind her to find William pacing in the hallway, arms crossed and chest puffed out in a look of irritation.

"Mother, you're taking too long!" He whined in an exasperating tone.

"My dear, I told you to go on ahead of me." She replied ruffling his hair once more to which he responded with an indignant squeak, clasping his hands tightly over his head.

"But I want you to see it _with_ me." William replied emphatically.

"Darling, we hardly even know if it _has_ snowed yet."

"But we _will_." William looked up and grinned at his mother. "Can we go fetch Kate?" He asked.

"If her mother allows it, and if she is not asleep." Katherine replied, putting careful emphasis on the last part of her sentence.

William nodded, still grinning, and tore off down the hall to the servants' wing of the house where he quickly located Blythe and Kate's room and raised a small fist to knock on the door. No response came, so he raced out of the wing, past his mother who was waiting outside the master bedchamber, and down to the kitchen, where he found both Blythe and her daughter hard at work on the morning meal with several other servants bustling about the kitchen as well.

"Kate!" William called across the kitchen.

The blonde-haired girl looked over her shoulder, her brow knitted in mild confusion before she recognized who had called to her.

"Will! What are you doing up so early?" She asked, wiping a spot of flour away from the tip of her nose.

"It's Christmas, and I wanted to go see the snow." William replied matter-of-factly.

"Well there should be plenty of it by now. Mama and I had to go outside this morning to fetch firewood a couple of hours ago, and it was up to my ankles." Kate declared with a laugh before her mother gestured for her to continue kneading dough for bread.

William let out an ecstatic squeal before turning to his mother who had decided to follow him down to the kitchen.

"I was right! It snowed!" He cried, jumping up and down. "Let's go outside, Kate!"

"Just one moment, young master." His mother chided gently. "You have yet to ask her if she even wants to go outside. And if she does, then you also must ask her mother if she is allowed." Katherine finished, squeezing her son's shoulder while his ears turned pink in embarrassment.

"Sorry Mother… Kate, would you like to go outside with me?" William asked.

The girl giggled and responded with a yes, though she looked up at her mother for final conformation.

Blythe smiled but shook her head, causing Kate to frown and look down at the floor.

"Not yet, my dear. You've still one more loaf of bread to bake. However, after that, if we're not too busy in here, you may go outside with the young master."

"Thank you, Mama." Kate replied with a tiny smile before turning to William. "Well, perhaps I'll see you once I'm finished. But you don't have to wait around for me; the snow will be here all day at least…"

"All right." William replied before turning to pull at his mother's arm. "Mother, let's go outside."

"We will, but first, you must find yourself something other than your nightwear to wear outside. After all, my dear, you just got over a cold less than a week ago, and I'll not have you ill again so soon after."

"Yes, Mother." William replied obediently before hurrying back up to his room with Katherine close behind. Anything to get out and enjoy the snow. It was perhaps his favorite thing about Christmas, apart from spending time with his mother, which he did already. He'd also found a playmate in Kate, though she was often busy helping her mother with housework, and as of late, Garrick had subtly discouraged his seeking her out to play, instead suggesting that he interact with some of the other boys of the aristocracy during gatherings where children _were_ allowed. But William shied away from them, feeling out of place amongst boys who were bigger, taller, and at times, more intimidating, especially when they chose him for their nasty bits of amusement. His small, lean stature earned him the nickname "Teeny-Weeny Willie" amongst his peers, who would take advantage of him, shoving him around and forcing him to fight before they all but tired him out and left him outside in the cold, alone and sobbing, with his often new clothing torn and dirty, and his face and arms scratched and bruised from being poked and prodded with sticks they had used for swords. It was in these times where his mother was his saving grace, his closest friend. She would draw hot baths for him, personally cleaning whatever cuts he sustained, and allow him to nurse his injured pride in the safety of her arms. If for some reason Katherine could not be there for her son, then the responsibility would fall to Blythe, and Kate would sit in a chair by his bed and tell him stories until he was sedate enough to sleep.

"William, do remember to wear your red overcoat and brown boots instead of your new black boots and green overcoat. Those are not to be worn until later today." She finished. "And please, wear your mittens. Last time it snowed, you nearly got frostbite on your fingers because you didn't wait to put them on before running outside."

William grinned guiltily.

"I will, Mother."

"Thank you, my dear." She smiled before leaving the room to grab a shawl, still dressed in her eveningwear, before meeting her son downstairs at the front door. The first hints of light were just beginning to show and little William was itching to get outside. As soon as she nodded to him that he could go outside, he all but flung the door open and bounded out into the snow, screeching and smiling with delight. Indeed, the snow looked to be at least half a foot. Father Winter had been generous.

"Mother, come outside!" He called to her while she watched from the entryway. "There's a whole big blanket of it!"

Katherine smiled but shook her head.

"Not yet, my angel; I am hardly dressed for such an occasion. But I will later. For now, I am content to watch you."

And she did as her son leapt and played about in the snow, lying down at one point to make a snow angel before pointing it out to her, grinning with pride at his own work.

"Wonderful, William. Well done." She complimented before turning suddenly at the sound of giggling behind her. Kate had donned a faded and worn hooded cloak to go outside in the cold weather.

"Finished with your chore, I see."

"Yes, milady." Kate replied with a small smile. "Mama said she would put it in the oven so that I might have some time to go outside before I help Papa with some of the other chores outside."

"Well enjoy yourself then." Katherine chuckled, squeezing the young girl's shoulder. "I believe William is waiting for someone to play with."

And he was. Catching sight of Kate, he greeted her with nothing less than a large snowball that was directed right to the middle of her dress, which was already partially covered in flour.

"Will!" Kate cried in surprise while the young master fell back in a fit of laughter.

William's mother only watched, shaking her head at her son's behavior and was not surprised when Kate retaliated, hitting William right in the chest with her own snowball.

"Little devil you are, William…" Katherine murmured with a sigh.

"Of course he is." A voice said softly in her ear while a hand came up to clasp her shoulder, causing her to startle momentarily before realizing that it was Garrick.

"Out of bed are you?" She asked, turning to kiss his cheek.

"The smell of the food cooking woke me, so I decided to get up and get ready for the day." He replied with a smirk as he watched his son and the servant girl throw snow at one another. "Well at least he is wide awake now… and Kate will most likely wear him out enough to sleep well tonight while we are away."

"I thought you did not want him playing with her anymore…" Katherine said, eyebrows furrowing.

"Well yes, though if she can calm him down for the rest of today, I hardly mind it. Besides, has getting him to interact with the other boys been successful? Hardly…"

"Garrick, he is just shy is all." Katherine frowned.

"Yes, and that is not helping him one bit." Her husband sniffed.

Katherine sighed, shaking her head.

"Is there not one thing about your son that does not upset you in any way?" She asked, saddened by his dissatisfaction. William meant the world to her, but to his father, he was less of a son than he was an heir and to him, he wasn't even satisfactory in that role.

"Katherine…" Garrick frowned but did not answer the question.

"He loves you, Garrick. You are his _father_ and he looks up to you and tries his hardest to earn your satisfaction. Please… do you not see any of his efforts?" There was a desperate note in her voice. "He greets you at the door whenever you arrive home from town, he tries not to disturb you when you are busy and for the most part succeeds. Today, yes, he got a bit excited, but on the whole, he stays out of your way."

Garrick pursed his lips and was silent for several moments while watching his son play.

"Well, perhaps I should give him his gift now, as we will be leaving later and I doubt he will want to part with it for anything when he receives it, though hopefully it has not already been spoiled by him wandering out to the stables." He finished with a slightly gruff edge.

"No, William has only been down to the kitchen and then outside in the front of the house."

Garrick nodded before calling his son over to him.

"Yes Father?" William asked, looking up at Garrick earnestly while Kate stood off a ways, keeping her distance from the master and young master of the household.

"I believe it is time you received your gift. Your mother and I will be gone later today and I am sure you will be wanting as much time as you can have to enjoy it."

"Really?" William screeched in excitement, jumping up and down.

"Yes." Katherine spoke, bending down to pick up her son. "But first, you must close your eyes, and keep them closed until I tell you to open them." She finished, kissing his forehead.

William looked over at his father who nodded and said, "Do as your mother tells you to."

Reluctantly, William did as he was told while Katherine gestured for Kate to follow.

"You may come too, Kate."

"Are you sure, milady?" Kate asked cautiously.

"Of course." Katherine held out her free hand and Kate took it with a shy smile.

"Thank you, milady."

Holding tightly to her mistress's hand, Kate walked with Garrick, Katherine and William outside in the frosty air to the stables, feeling mildly uncomfortable with being in such close proximity to the master of the house, especially when she knew his thoughts towards her weren't exactly warm. But Katherine and William were there as well, and that was all the comfort she needed.

As they approached the stables, Kate began to smile as the realization of what William's Christmas present was dawned upon her. Obviously, her little gifts of new stockings and a bonnet from her mother and father seemed far less significant; both were homemade and it was all they could afford, though she was still grateful for the gifts, even if they weren't nearly as magnificent as a live animal. She was still happy for the young master, for he was her closest friend, even if he was a couple years younger

Arriving at a last to the last stall on the left, Kate peeked out from her mistress's side to see a black Fell pony standing in the stall, fully groomed and saddled, waiting with warm expectant brown eyes while Katherine set William down on the ground and gave him permission to open his eyes.

"A horse…" He gasped softly, eyes wide. "_My_ horse." William's voice began to rise with excitement. "Thank you, Father!" He exclaimed.

"It is only a pony." Garrick murmured but said nothing more. His son wasn't paying any heed to him anyway, as he carefully opened the stall door and slowly approached the Fell, patting it on the nose when he reached it.

"May I get up on him?" William asked tentatively.

"Of course." Katherine nodded. "After all, we did make sure he was saddled before we brought you out here."

With swift and effortless grace, her son mounted his proud steed, positively beaming.

"So, what are you going to name him?" His mother asked curiously.

William frowned thoughtfully, but soon came up with a reply.

"I'll name him King." He spoke with a definitive tone, causing his mother to laugh while Kate nodded in agreement.

"He does look like a king." The blonde spoke shyly.

"Yes…" William agreed. "Kate, let's go ride in the snow." He spoke, leaning forward eagerly.

"I don't know, Will…" Kate chewed her lip. Horses tended to frighten her with their size and potentially unpredictable ways; it didn't help that Garrick's stallion had nearly trampled her once before it was done away with for having such a nasty disposition. Yet King, as Garrick had said, was a pony, and he looked friendly enough.

"Kate, you may decline if you do not wish to go." Katherine spoke, kneeling down so that she was eye level with the girl. "If you really would like it, I am sure the master can follow to make sure nothing unfortunate happens, though I am quite confident that you will be completely safe." She said encouragingly.

"But won't you be there as well?" Kate asked before leaning in so that only Katherine could hear her words. "Master Garrick doesn't like me."

Katherine frowned and took the girl's hands in her own.

"My dear, I really must go make myself presentable for the day, but if you wish it, I will return and watch you."

"Kate…" William pulled the servant girl's attention away from his mother as he waited for an answer.

"All right, I'll come with you. But I may need some help getting up."

Garrick, who had been standing by silently nodded and picked Kate up, setting her down behind his son and instructing her to put her hands around William's waist. Then, he took the reins and led King out of the stall before allowing William to guide the pony out of the stables, pausing to watch as they went.

"Well, at least he can find his way out of the stable well enough," he murmured, standing next to Katherine.

Katherine shrugged and replied "I do not doubt that he will make a good horseman one day. He loves the animals enough."

Garrick gave a near imperceptible nod.

"Perhaps… Then he might be able to excel at something other than being a dreamer and having his nose stuck in Charles Perrault's _Puss in Boots_ when he should be playing with toy soldiers."


	4. Chapter 4

"Mister Tavington…Young master…. William Tavington, do pay attention at once!"

Eleven-year-old William looked up just in time to see a stiff, leather strap come snapping down upon the back of his left hand and looked reluctantly up at his teacher, flexing his hand in pain, while other students behind him began to snicker, the corners of their lips turning upward in sneers.

"Young master, how many times must I call you back to attention before you finish a single simple maths problem?" His teacher spoke harshly, not making any attempts to mask his ire as a vein pulsated from the right side of his wrinkled forehead, lips tight as he ran a thin, spidery, calloused fingers through peppered hair.

"My apologies, Mister Garrison…." He mumbled, looking down once more at his blank parchment.

But it wasn't enough. Mr. Garrrison leaned down upon the desk until his face was but an inch away from his pupil and hissed, "I spend an hour each day teaching you maths. A _full_ hour! And what is the result? An entirely empty sheaf of parchment and a meagre 'My apologies, Mister Garrison?!' And I can't say you were much more competent in your English lesson either. No, I believe you spent at least half of that staring out the window. Maybe, if I was lucky, you dipped your quill into that inkpot of yours and managed to scrawl a couple of sentences..." He glared down at the boy with angry black eyes.

William's cheeks reddened in shame, yet his teacher wasn't to be satisfied with a simple slap and chastising.

"Enough of this. To the headmaster with you. And take your things as well; class will have ended by the time you reach his office."

"Yes sir." William responded with something between a choke and a whisper, hanging his head before gathering his things, trying to ignore the deafening silence of the class as he left his seat, wanting to run as quickly as he could from the cruel, scrutinizing gazes of his peers that followed him almost all the way to the door, where a boy by the name of Bronson Fane gave him an particularly unfriendly smile before he stuck out his foot, sending young Tavington crashing to the floor, his papers scattered, quill broken and inkpot spilled.

Quickly gathering his things, William closed his eyes against the raucous laughter that ensued and fled the room, bumping into a boy several years his senior in the corridor.

"Watch yourself, little faggot!" He snapped, shoving him hard into a wall and scattering his school materials once more.

Wincing as he hit the wall, William watched the boy stride down the hall before stooping to collect his belongings and slumping off down the hall and arrived at the headmaster's office with a sigh, reluctantly knocking upon the heavy wooden door.

"Come in." A grating, gravely voice called from behind the door.

Small hands reached up to the knob and grudgingly, William let himself in, his ears still pink from the earlier berating. Before him sat a man who was about his grandfather's age, with greying brown hair, yellow-green eyes, and lips that seemed to be set in a perpetual frown.

"Ah, young master Tavington…" The headmaster's voice was laced with disgust and disapproval. "Now, how many times have you been in my office this month alone? I believe this would be the fourth time. Not paying attention again, I assume… You know, I've already sent a letter to your father about the little daydreams you seem to be having during lessons as all of your teachers have come to me saying that their having to discipline you for your wandering mind, is causing a disruption for the other students."

"Headmaster…" William's mouth went dry. He could only imagine the trouble he'd be in when he arrived home for the holidays. Letters from his mother had borne concern and a warning of his father's increasingly surly moods.

"What is it that you're not grasping, Tavington?" The headmaster hissed. "Your marks are embarrassing at best, yet you still seem to neglect them and do as you please. Do you honestly view yourself above your peers? I hardly have time to put up with such behavior. You are far from head boy here, and _not_ from the highest of classes."

"I'm sorry, headmaster…" William wanted very much to disappear, or at least be dismissed to the dormitories.

"Really, Tavington? Just as you were the other three times you've been here this month? I've been too lax on you, boy. Your teachers have been too lax on you. Shirt off…"

William's bottom lip trembled but he remained silent as he stood up, placing his parchment, broken quill, and inkpot on the chair in front of the headmaster's desk and slowly removed his vest and shirt, holding them out before his bare chest as he looked up at him with anguished azure pools, his small frame shaking ever so slightly.

"Put them back on the chair with the rest of your things." The headmaster spoke, taking out a birchwood switch from a drawer in his desk.

"Yes sir…" William turned away from him, revealing an already significantly scarred back due to the beatings and harassment he had received from his peers, though the sight of a mere switch still unsettled him.

"To the wall…"

Clenching his jaw, William fought back anxiety as he went to the wall and leaned up against it, back exposed, arms outstretched.

"Fifteen lashes, for repeatedly failing to be attentive in class…"

Sucking in his breath, William closed his eyes, biting his tongue as the first of the fifteen lashes snapped upon his fair skin. It stung and burned, yet he hardly had time to concentrate on it before another lash slapped him near his left shoulder, and then another in the middle of his back. He was sure to have marks when the headmaster was finished.

By the last two lashes, it was all the poor boy could do to keep from pulling away and sliding down the wall. Once it was over, he was roughly handed his things and told to go immediately to the dormitories, his back an angry red mess of welts, bruises, and scratches.

Snow fell silently, covering the outside of the Tavington estate in white. Inside, Katherine Tavington watched her husband pace up and down the main corridor, a grave expression upon her features as she observed the furrow in Garrick's brow, the angry glint in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw.

"Hopeless... Pathetic! _Your_ son has amounted to little more than a burden!" He seethed, coming to cease his pacing before her, the letter clenched in a white-knuckled fist.

"Garrick, he is trying-" Katherine attempted to reason, but her husband cut her off.

"Trying?! I hardly call failing marks in nearly all of his classes trying, Katherine! What is it that his pretty little head cannot seem to comprehend?"

"Do you forget that he is only eleven years old, Garrick?" Katherine cried in an outburst.

"He is my _heir_, Katherine! And he is a sorry one at that. I cannot remember _not_ receiving anything but top marks in my schooling, and I know for a fact that you performed equally well in your finishing school. Your son is naught but an indolent child. There is nothing else for it." Garrick finished in a gruff, frosty tone, staring down at Katherine with glacial blue eyes devoid of any mercy. "I might not have to be so concerned if he was not the only heir to the name. If we had another to carry on the name, I would not be left with having to deal with this one's lacking abilities in not only academia, but also in his inability to go a single month without catching a cold from being outside, riding that damned pony of his in the chilly weather in little more than a tunic and breeches. His social skills have not improved either, as I'm quite sure he still prefers to keep the company of _Kate_ than any of the other boys near here about his age. How can he be a successful heir if he does not socialise with his peers? If he did, perhaps he would not be coming home with scratches and bruises because he is too slight and lacking in any amount of tenacity to defend himself properly. As it is…"

He left the sentence hanging, hurling the crumpled letter to the floor and cast Katherine a last withering glance before striding out of the estate, slamming the door behind him.

Stooping to pick up the letter, Katherine smoothed it and glanced over the broken red seal, as tears began forming in her eyes, but only one made its way down her cheek. True, it had upset her that William had been struggling in school. She knew he was far from daft, but his inadequate performance in academics had put her in a quandary, and Garrick's churlish words did nothing to help the situation.

Just then, the distant sound of trotting hooves caught her attention and she looked up, walking over to a nearby window to peek outside.

Outside, a small black carriage pulled by two bay-coloured Cobs ambled towards the front gates of the estate. It was one of the servants, Brishen, returning from a lengthy trip to collect William from school for the holidays. Stopping the carriage at the front gates, Brishen waited as another servant named Alton, walked up to collect her son's large trunk while the young master himself stepped rather unceremoniously out of the carriage, carrying his leather satchel on his right shoulder and book tucked in his left arm. His normally neat brown hair had several tendrils sticking out from its tie and the bright disposition he usually returned home with was replaced by a somberly air as he made his way none too quickly through the gates and up to the house, the snow crunching under his freshly polished silver-buckled shoes.

"Welcome home, darling…" Katherine managed a smile despite her mixed feeling as William opened the door.

"Thank you, Mother." He replied with a grim tone, but gave a small smile, setting his book on a nearby table and wrapping his arms around her middle but pulled away when he saw the letter in her hand. "Have I disappointed you too?" He asked forlornly.

Katherine looked down at him and said nothing, her eyes still shining from the tears that she kept from falling.

"Well, it is true, my dear; I am not exactly pleased with your progress." She replied. "Your marks are not what they could be, but I trust you know what to do about that, do you not?"

"I do." William whispered, his arms still clasped tightly around his mother. "But Father will still hate me."

Katherine pulled away slightly and leaned down so that she was eye level with her son, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"William," She paused with a sigh, "I know your father is hard on you. Too hard at times, I believe. But he has been this way with everyone, lately. It is not an excuse for his behaviour, I know… As for me, I still love you just the same." Katherine finished, kissing his forehead. "So please, go upstairs and put your belongings away and then you can meet me downstairs in the library to discuss things."

"Must I?" William asked, not wanting to even touch upon the subject of his academic standings.

"Love, I am not about to lecture you for an hour." His mother gave a light laugh. "But that does not mean I do not want to speak with you for at least a few minutes about it."

"All right. I'll see you downstairs then once I'm finished." William replied reluctantly, kissing Katherine's cheek before he grabbed his book off of the table and slumped off towards the stairs.

When he reached the stairs, Kate was heading towards the dining hall, but upon seeing that her friend was finally home, she paused and gave him a bright smile.

"Will! So glad you're-" She cut herself off and frowned upon seeing his unhappy expression. "Something wrong, Will?" She asked cautiously.

William sighed allowing his satchel to fall a ways down his shoulder.

"Do you really want to know, Kate? School has been terrible at best, and that's the short side of it." He spoke, looking her directly in the eye.

Kate looked down at her feet before meeting his gaze once more.

"Well perhaps we might talk about it later? Of course, I would have to make sure I'm not needed, but I'm quite confident that I can spare a few minutes. I can even bring you a fresh slice of bread and butter if you like."

"I don't know." William replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I was supposed to meet Mother downstairs after I put my things away, but maybe a little later?"

"I can try." Kate replied, looking at him with troubled sea-green eyes. "Will, are you sure you're alright? You're usually not so down when you come home."

"Well I wouldn't be so down if my marks weren't so low and I didn't have people looking at me as if I were a fool!" He hissed, but instantly regretted it upon seeing the hurt look in his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry, Kate…"

The girl merely shrugged and nodded, pulling a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"I understand. Would you like me to accompany you upstairs?" She asked, taking the book he held and tucking it under her arm.

"Thank you, Kate," William replied, his face beginning to brighten just the slightest amount, "I would."

With that, the two made their way up the large mahogany staircase and up to William's bedroom where the young master proceeded to tuck his things neatly away while Kate waited patiently at the door to either be dismissed or given another task to complete, her hands clasped before her as she quietly observed her friend with curious eyes.

"You don't need to stand there." William commented as he glanced at her from a corner of his room. "Come in."

"Are you sure?" Kate hesitated.

"Well is Father here?" William asked.

"Actually, I don't really know. He was here earlier, but he may have gone out. Your grandfather is here though, but the last time I checked, he was resting."

"Grandfather is here?" William asked, his tone turning grim once more. "For how long?"

Kate chewed her lip, absently pulling at her apron as she tried to recall how long Cynric would be staying.

"Well, he arrived yesterday, and I believe he leaves tomorrow morning."

"I see…" William was hardly pleased with the news but could find nothing else to say about it. "I should probably go downstairs; I'm sure Mother is waiting for me."

And surely enough, Katherine had been waiting quietly for her son in the library, standing at a window and staring out over the expanse of land that sprawled before the Estate. A couple of ravens darted about the snow covered grounds before lifting into the air, flapping their large black wings wildly. Katherine watched their retreat to the sky with unsmiling eyes. Garrick's words had hurt her deeply; her bottom lip quivered as she allowed unshed tears to fall, streaking her cheeks with their wet, salty trails.

"Dear, dear, Katherine, tears do not become you…" Cynric's voice came in an eerie whisper to her ear and she turned, wiping the tear-streaks from her cheeks self-consciously.

"Cynric," She said in mild surprise, "I did not see you there."

Katherine's father-in-law chuckled, placing a hand on her hip, his icy blue eyes glinting maliciously. "Well I do love the element of surprise…"

Katherine swallowed hard, trying not to squirm or shake, biting her tongue when he brought a silver necklace with a cross charm to clasp around her neck, ghosting his fingers over her soft, creamy skin as he did so.

"You left this in the dining hall." His breath was warm upon the back of Katherine's neck, and she shivered, fighting down a growing panic.

"Please, Cynric, I am waiting for William to meet me here." She spoke, an anxious note in her voice.

"Ah, your son is home for holiday, is he? But of course; and here he is now."

William had come down several minutes earlier to meet his mother, but upon seeing his Grandfather walk into the library on his way down the stairs, he decided to wait outside the entryway, yet he couldn't help but peek inside the library. Immediately, his brow had begun to furrow in confusion and a growing anger upon seeing his mother's visible discomfort and the twisted amusement his grandfather seemed to take in it.

"Mother…" William murmured but immediately began to shrink back when Cynric noticed him watching. His grandfather's gaze was perhaps even more suffocating than that of his father. Still, he stepped slowly into the room, wrenching his eyes from Cynric and focusing instead, on Katherine, who looked all too relieved too see him.

"You wanted to see me, Mother?" He asked politely.

"I did, yes." Katherine nodded at him, motioning for him to sit down in a nearby armchair.

"Well, I shall leave you two alone then." Cynric remarked casually before he turned on heel, stepping out of the library without a backward glance.

Katherine let out a shuddering breath, placing a hand on the back of her neck and rubbing it as if to rid herself of Cynric's mere presence so close to her.

"Mother, are you all right?" William had begun to grow uneasy at her upset state, trying not to fidget nervously while he sat, nearly enveloped in the chair.

"Never you mind, my dear. I am faring well enough. Right now, my main concern is you." She finished, the right corner of her mouth turning upwards. "Now what are we to do about these marks? Your headmaster spoke of your not paying attention and daydreaming in class."

William opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, unable to say anything so Katherine continued.

"Now, I hardly gather that there is only an expansive amount of empty space between your ears. So what will prompt you to perform better? What do you need, William?"

"I don't know." William replied with a frown, looking down at his shod feet. "I just… I don't know. I'm sorry, Mother."

"My dear, I know you can earn top marks. Or you can at least do far better than what you are doing currently." Katherine encouraged, stooping so that she was level with her son.

"I will. I'll do better. I'll concentrate harder. I'll get higher marks." William spoke in earnest. He already hated disappointing his father, but he considered it worse to beget such a thing from his mother.

"I have no doubt about that, love. In the meantime, however, I expect you to do extra work on your lessons while you are here." Katherine said, finishing with a stern undertone. "No horseback riding in the pastures until I see at least one lesson's worth of work a day."

William groaned in protest, sticking his lower lip out in a pout while his mother's only response was to smile and shake her head.

"William, you know you got yourself into this. I believe I'm being fair enough, my dear, and you also know that I could impose far more strict consequences. However, as it is, I think what I've given you shall suffice. You will still have plenty of time to read, ride, and play on your own, so long as your work is completed first."

"Yes Mother…" Young William replied in a dull voice.

"All right then, you may run off to your room if you like. We will not begin this until tomorrow morning, but in any case, I am finished with you here." Katherine spoke, kissing her son's cheek, pulling a stray lock of his thick, curly brown hair out of his eyes. "You may come to the dining hall for a meal in an hour."

William nodded, returning his mother's kiss with a quick peck before he left the library, returning to his room to sit on the side of his bed, dangling his legs over the edge.

"Will?"

The young master looked up to see Kate standing in the doorway, a tray of buttered bread and water in her hands.

"I took the liberty of putting honey on the slices as well. I know you like that." Kate attempted a smile despite the still sombre air about her friend.

"Thank you, Kate." William replied grimly, "You know, you _can_ sit next to me."

Kate blushed and nodded, hesitantly sitting down next to him.

"I suppose so…" She replied. She had become more careful with observing her station in the house, especially with Garrick's growing moodiness and Cynric visiting.

William raised a brow. "You _suppose _so?" He repeated with a teasing smile, causing Kate to laugh. "Father isn't home, and I'm guessing Grandfather has departed back to his room. Besides, you're my closest friend."

The girl rolled her eyes but continued to chuckle, a couple of blonde tendrils falling in her eyes.

"Well does this mean that you will tell me why it is that you've been so down?"

The smile that had been on William's face when he had pressured her into sitting down next to him was replaced once more by a grim expression, but he slowly nodded his consent.

"I suppose you'll find out anyway…" He mumbled.

"Maybe… Maybe not. But I would like to know, if you're willing to share it with me."

William nodded and looked over at her as she waited patiently for him to continue, smoothing the skirts of the faded blue dress she wore.

"If you really must know, I got in trouble for not paying attention in class…. again. And my parents received a letter about it from the headmaster." He finished, turning his face away from her. "In short, I'm quite sure Mister Garrison believes me to be hopeless, a waste of his teaching time."

Kate bit her lip, her brow creased in a flummoxed expression.

"But Will, you _must_ do your work. I mean, how else are you to take over your father's flour mills without some form of knowledge of how to do so?" She asked.

William's eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips.

"So you agree with him then? That I'm not worth teaching?" He asked, suddenly irritated with her.

"No, not at all!" Kate shook her head. "Will, I know you're smart. Brilliant. You've all the potential in the world to reach as high as you desire for what you want, and your parents are able to afford the best education for you to use it even more… I guess what I'm asking is why it is that your teacher would think such disparaging things about you?"

William sighed exasperatedly before replying, "Kate, when you're in the kitchens baking a pie, do you concentrate only on the task at hand, or does your mind sometimes wander because you know that you've done it enough times to be sure that nothing is going to go wrong even if you daydream just the slightest bit? Though sometimes, it still happens, right? You take one minute too long and the pie is burned…"

Kate licked her lips but said nothing while William continued to speak, getting up and setting the tray of food aside to grab a few rolls of parchment that had maths problems scrawled on them from previous lessons to show to her.

"You see these?" He dropped the small stack of parchment into her lap. "I know all of these. They're easy. They take no effort. So when he begins to speak about them, I become bored and my mind wanders. Sometimes, I let it wander too much… and then I get into trouble. And it's not just them. Everyone; Father, Grandfather, my teachers, the headmaster… they all look at me as if I'm daft, mute and worthless. But I'm not stupid, Kate. I'm _not_ stupid!" He cried suddenly, a desperate look in his eyes.

Kate startled momentarily at his unanticipated burst but quickly recovered and wrapped her arms around his shaking frame.

"No, Will, you're not stupid. You're not stupid at all. Anyone can see that."

"Father can't." William murmured. "Or at least he doesn't seem to."

"I'm sure he doesn't believe it, Will. At least, not as much as you might think…"

The boy frowned, raising a brow.

"Don't be ridiculous, Kate. He hardly looks at me when I'm home. And when he seems to be, it's always just past my left ear."

Kate shook her head but said nothing in return. She hated to admit that Garrick disliked his son as much as William seemed to believe he did. Yet even she had seen how cold he could be with her, and it saddened her to see him to upset, especially when she could do nothing for it.

"I'm sorry, Will. But look, your mother cares the world for you. I don't think she likes to see you so ill spirited. As for me, I'm not going anywhere…" She finished, giving him a tiny smile. "So I guess you're not completely alone, are you?"

_**A/N: All right, so just a couple of things here: if any of you were questioning the usage of 'faggot' in the 18**__**th**__** century in the context that I used it in, it is quite accurate, though it more likely referred to a bundle of bound sticks used for fuel as opposed to the derogatory homosexual meaning. So, in short, the boy was saying that Will was a pile of sticks.  
**_

_**-J.H.M.  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

"Oi, Will! He's over here!" One of William's school friends, a boy by the name of Afton LeRoy called, pointing at a clump of tall, green, dewy grass.

An excited William Tavington stumbled over a pile of twigs as he made his way to his friend's side.

"Not so loud!" Afton called in a harsh whisper, holding out a hand to stop the boy's eager advance. William nodded and slowed down, creeping up to peer over Afton's shoulder at a small brown lizard nearly completely obscured by the grass.

"I thought you had lost him." William spoke softly, reaching for the toad.

"Lost what?" A voice dripping with disdain came from just behind the two boys. Both William and Afton turned to see another boy of a higher form glaring down at them; his name was Vincent Coulson, and he was known amongst students for having a prickly disposition.

"It was nothing…" Afton mumbled, averting his soft brown eyes from the withering gaze of the older boy.

"Well be on your way then! Me mates and I have this place picked out for fencing."

Afton nodded and made to leave but William grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks and stared back at Vincent with bright, icy eyes.

"Afton and I were only looking for a toad. And besides, we have yet to see your mates." He spoke in a quiet yet bold tone.

Vincent's cobalt-blue eyes flashed threateningly and a vein in his neck twitched.

"Testing me, are you, Tavington?" He turned to William, stepping towards him as he prepared to shove him into the nearest tree.

"I am not." Young Tavington replied as tonelessly as he could, though the smart note in his voice was not missed by Vincent and the older boy grabbed him harshly by the shoulders, knocking him to the ground, but before he could move to kick him, William rolled out of the way and got to his feet.

"Ah, not quite the clumsy clot you were last year then." Vincent smirked, advancing on him. "Well, no matter-"

"Vincent, there is a prefect behind you." William cut in, looking over the boy's right shoulder with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

Vincent glanced behind him to see a tall thin boy with curly black hair, red-brown eyes, and a thin mouth set in a perpetual grimace walking towards them.

"Something the matter here?" He asked, eyeing Vincent suspiciously.

William bit his lip and looked up at Vincent and the prefect, and before Vincent could respond, he spoke, "Everything is all right. Just trying to find something lost in the grass."

The prefect still looked suspicious but was satisfied enough with the answer; with a stiff nod and warning glance at the other boys, he turned and retraced the path from whence he came. William breathed an inaudible sigh of relief while Afton tugged at his arm, gesturing that they leave the area and return to the dormitories, the toad all but forgotten in the need to avoid getting into trouble for their confrontation with Vincent.

"That was lucky." Afton spoke in a relieved tone as the two boys walked through the front doors of the school and started up the stairs to their dormitory. "Last time we ran into him, you received a black eye and a fat lip."

"I know it." William smirked. "But really, I believe he is losing his imposing image."

"Are you mad, Will? He is twice your size."

"Maybe, but _I_ am twice as fast." William quipped with a chuckle, his eyes shining with mirth.

Afton shook his head, pulling a strand of sandy colored hair out of his eyes.

"You know, an attitude like that will get you pummeled one day." He spoke, smiling at his friend.

"Probably." William replied simply before giving Afton a mischievous smile. "That is why I only brag to you." He finished, playfully pulling his friend's arm so that Afton stumbled down a step below him.

"You prat!" Afton hissed, glaring up at William, though it was all in good fun as William laughed back, climbing a couple more steps, looking behind over his shoulder and down at his friend to invite a challenge. Not to be outdone by young Tavington, Afton took the invitation and chased him all the way up the stairs to their dormitory.

"Sprite!" He wheezed, chuckling at his friend as the two of them entered the dormitory.

William laughed in response.

"Well I can hardly say that you are much better!" He exclaimed. "Switching the candies in David Hamilton's satchel for a toad."

"Yes, but he deserved it." Afton replied indignantly, pulling the mischievous strand of sandy hair out of his eyes. "As I said, he got me ten lashes for being late to my lesson because he hid my satchel in the prefects' dormitory."

"Perhaps he did…" William nodded, moving to set his own satchel down by his bed. "So, are you going to be going anywhere for summer holiday?"

"No." Afton replied in a somewhat morose tone. "I wish I could say otherwise; about the only traveling I will be doing will be on the horse trails near home. Father is still away in India, though my uncle will be coming soon to stay with my mother and I for a month or two. Then he will be leaving aboard ship to India while my father begins his journey home. What about yourself?"

William shrugged.

"It shan't be anything exciting." He replied simply. "Except perhaps the fencing. Father has already hired a sword-master to begin training me. Though other than that, as I said, hardly anything except perhaps extra lessons just to make sure I keep up with everything." William smiled wryly. "And I believe Father is going to be spending a good deal of time away from home in London, which means that Grandfather is likely to stay with Mother and I for a while." William's brow furrowed and he frowned. "I suppose it could be worse."

Afton chuckled as he put his things away.

"Your summer holiday does not sound half bad to me, Will. Honestly, fencing with a sword-master. My father wants to wait a short while longer for me to begin that outside of school, though I'd give anything to start as soon as you are. Instead, I am quite sure I will be dragged around and forced to meet at least a few girls this summer. You know how they plan these things. It is mad, I tell you." He smirked.

William grinned in agreement as he removed his shoes and flopped down upon his bed.

"It is still better than sitting in a stuffy room listening to a tight-lipped professor lecture over and over again on the basic principles of Latin."

"Another letter from the young master, I see." Kate glanced at the letter in Katherine Tavington's hands, giving her mistress a small smile. "I do hope he is faring well."

"I do believe he is." Katherine replied as she read over the letter where she stood in the family library. "Though it appears he narrowly missed trouble again for getting himself into a couple of squabbles with some of his peers." She smiled to herself, shaking her head. "Lucky boy he is. Well, lucky or headed straight for the devil's pit."

Kate chuckled as she turned to dust the mantle of the fireplace in the library, sneezing as bits of dust and soot made their way into the air around her.

"Oh Kate, I am terribly sorry; I should have asked your mother to clean the mantle as I know how the dust upsets you so." Katherine frowned, giving the girl an apologetic look.

"I believe I shall be fine this once, milady." Kate grinned despite the dust flying about. "Though I thank you for your concern."

Katherine nodded and finished reading the letter. Then, folding it carefully back up, she bade Kate good-bye and headed out of the library and outside to the stables, pausing next to the large stall of an old Shire named Henry, calling his name softly as she held her hand out to him. The large horse whickered and walked over to her, shoving his soft pink nose beneath her hand as he stared down at her with aged, wise eyes.

"Good morning, old boy." Katherine murmured, stroking his nose and face. Henry was her favorite horse, with his kind, smiling eyes and gentle disposition that belied his massive stature.

"Shall I take him out for you, milady? I can get him ready for the carriage after I am finished with this one, if you like."

Katherine turned to see Kate's father, Jagger making his way out of another one of the stalls with William's pony, King, on a lead rope.

Katherine smiled and shook her head at the young man. "Thank you, Jagger; but I believe I shall take this one out to pasture on my own."

"Very well." Jagger nodded and gave her a shy smile, pulling a strand of unruly flaxen hair out of his eyes. "If you should need any assistance, I should not be too far away."

"Thank you." She smiled, dismissing him with a wave of her hand before grabbing Henry's lead rope, stepping into his stall and attaching it to his halter before she led him out to pasture.

"There you are, my prince." Katherine patted Henry's nose, releasing him off the lead and he went trotting off into the field, tossing his head and tail, neighing as he went. Watching him for a moment, Katherine turned and made her way back to the stables where she hung up the lead rope before continuing back into the estate. There were things to be taken care of and since a couple of the servants had taken to their beds due to illness, she wanted to make sure chores still managed to run smoothly so that Garrick might not arrive home and be put in a state of undesirable temperament. Making her way to the kitchen, she peeked in to see Blythe just finishing the glaze on a loaf of bread, while another servant, Kaelyn, placed another loaf into the oven to be cooked.

"Is everything going all right in here?" Katherine asked. "I know you are a couple people short today."

"Everything is well, milady." Blythe replied, looking up from her work while Kaelyn gave Katherine a reassuring smile. "Thank you for your concern though. Bede and Daisy should be back to work within a few days. We have had someone check in on them every couple of hours."

"Of course. And thank you; it is much appreciated." Katherine replied. "Well, I believe I shall be upstairs."

Hours later, around midday, Garrick arrived back at the estate from a visit with an old friend in London, smelling of alcohol, yet his eyes were not clouded but still sharp and keen.

"Sir…" A servant named Theodore greeted Garrick at the entrance and took his coat for him. Garrick's only response was a terse nod. Things had not gone as he would have liked while in London.

"Have Blythe fetch me a drink." He spoke. "Has dinner been prepared yet?"

"It should be finished within the next fifteen minutes, sir." Theodore replied.

"Very well; just have Blythe bring me some scotch in the drawing room."

"Yes sir."

With a quick flick of his hand, Garrick dismissed Theodore and made his way to the drawing room where he sat down and waited for several minutes, drumming his fingertips on his knee impatiently. Rolling his eyes in irritation, he stood suddenly and strode into the kitchen.

"Is it honestly so difficult to fetch a single drink?" He asked harshly, turning a pointed gaze to Blythe, whose cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"I am terribly sorry, sir." She stammered. "I-"

"Oh don't bother explaining yourself!" Garrick huffed. "Just get me the scotch."

"Garrick!" Katherine had been on her way to the kitchens as well to check on the staff when Garrick's raised angry voice had quickened her pace. "What has gotten into you? The past three visits to London have resulted in you coming home in a mood. Really, what is happening that you must turn sour toward one of our servants?"

"Nothing that you need be concerned about; go back to your reading, Katherine." Garrick responded in a condescending voice, staring down at her with a black look in his eyes.

"Garrick, I will _not_." Katherine gave him an even, unblinking stare, her own royal blue eyes bright with a steadily growing anger.

Pursing his lips, Garrick clenched his jaw so tightly that he began to bite into the flesh of his cheeks.

"Kate," He began, casting a glance at the young girl who was just returning to the kitchen after finishing her other chores, "please escort the lady back upstairs to her private chambers."

"Yes sir." Kate replied politely, averting her eyes from Garrick's insufferable gaze, but Katherine shook her head, placing a hand on the young girl's forearm.

"That will not be necessary, Kate." She spoke, giving Garrick a pointed look.

"Katherine, get upstairs. _Now_." Garrick began to shake with rage.

"Garrick-"

He didn't wait for her to finish. Instead, he grasped her right arm in a crushing vicegrip, causing her to cry aloud as she tried to pry his hand off of her. But it was to no avail, and Garrick dragged her down the hall and into one of the drawing rooms, where he all but threw her against one of the large armchairs. Katherine drew in a painful breath and squeezed her eyes tightly shut when her back hit squarely against one of the corners of the chair. Sinking to the floor, she made to move out of his reach, but Garrick continued to advance.

"Garrick, don't do this." Katherine spoke softly, looking up at him. "Please…"

"If you had not foolishly disobeyed me and followed Kate in the first place, perhaps I would not have had to." Garrick responded with a loud scoff and a dark scowl.

"That is not fair."

"Fair? _Fair_? In case it has escaped your notice, _Katherine_, 'fair' is hardly the issue. If it was, then I would be inclined to believe that both you and William would have learned your places in this house by now-"

"Do _not_ bring our son into this." Katherine's eyes narrowed. "Just because you come home in a strop after a drink or two due to the fact that something did not work out the way you had intended-"

She did not get the chance to finish; Garrick had grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her roughly to her feet before giving her a bruising slap across her right cheek. Katherine yelped and grabbed her cheek as hot tears began forming in her eyes while Garrick gave her a disdainful look, shoving her forcefully towards the entryway where she stumbled and fell to floor.

"Get up." He murmured dangerously, stalking towards her.

When she did not respond immediately, Garrick wrenched her off of the floor by her right arm and threw her into a small table, where she landed against it with a thud, sliding off of it before the table went with her to the floor.

"Stop this! Please!" Katherine cried gasping in agony as sharp pain pulsated through her ribs where she had hit the table. But Garrick was not listening. Striding back toward her, he grabbed her by the arm once more and again, made to throw her into the entryway. Yet Katherine would have none of it and struggled against him, eventually landing a blow to the side of his face causing him to loosen his grip in surprise.

"Foolish tripe!" Garrick overcame his dazed state quickly and stepped forward before Katherine could get out of range, pinning her arms to her sides with his powerful grip as he pulled her to the armchair that he had first thrown her against. "You _will_ learn your place!"

Again, Katherine attempted a struggle, but was rewarded with a dizzying slap while Garrick forced her over the right arm of the chair, jerking her skirts up around her hips, exposing her to him as she whimpered in fright, her eyes wide with terror.

"I said learn your place!" Garrick hissed, his breath hot and overpowering against the back of Katherine's neck while he unbuttoned his black breeches and forced himself into her trembling body. She screamed at his rough thrusts, wanting to crawl out from under him, but he had placed his hand firmly on the back of her neck, pushing her down and preventing any attempts for her to rise.

"Garrick…" Katherine's voice was all but inaudible as she desperately gripped the chair, tears streaming down her cheeks, stinging her skin.

The torture continued a short while longer, and when he had had his fill of her, Garrick pulled out of her, yanked her skirts back down and buttoned his breeches before striding out of the room to grab a glass of scotch that had been left on a table just outside the room, while Katherine collapsed on the floor in a fit of anger, exhaustion and fear, tucking herself into a quivering ball next to the armchair.

"Will…Will! Wake up! Your carriage will be here soon!" Afton pulled the young master Tavington out of his bed.

"I know, I _know_!" William mumbled sleepily. "I am already packed to leave…"

"But you are still in your nightclothes." Afton continued, giving his friend a hard shove.

William frowned but got up, grabbing the set of clothing he had laid out on his trunk the night before and went to the washroom. After a short but refreshing bath, he returned, dressed and ready for his trip back home.

"Well, I hope you have a good holiday, Will." Afton handed William his satchel before retrieving his own things. "My carriage is already here… Try not to go too mad if you father makes you study extra Latin over the summer."

William smirked.

"I should not have to worry. Besides, there will still be other things to do; I have got a sword master training me, after all." He finished with a chuckle.

Afton grinned.

"That you do indeed. In the meantime, I shall see you at the start of term. Good bye, Will."

"See you, Afton. And do try to be nice to any girls you meet this summer." William smiled impishly; Afton laughed, shaking his head.

"If I must…" With that, the young boy gathered his trunk and handed it to a servant who had come up to help him with his things. Then, with a final wave, Afton followed the servant out the door and down the corridor, pulling a misbehaving strand of hair out of his eyes as he went.

Fifteen minutes later, as William's own carriage arrived and so began the long journey home, half of which he spent asleep, huddled in a tight ball under a dark green blanket that his mother had had embroidered with his initials in white. Finally, just as dusk began to set in, the carriage pulled up to the front gates of the Tavington estate and the servant, Jagger, stepped down from the carriage to help the young master with his things.

"Welcome home, young master." Jagger greeted William with a small smile, grabbing his trunk to carry into the house, while another servant came for the carriage.

"Thank you." William replied, grabbing his satchel and hopping down from the carriage. "Is Father home?" He asked, adjusting the satchel strap on his shoulder.

"I believe he is out, but your mother is waiting for you."

William gave the man a small smile, his azure eyes sparkling with the sun's dying rays.

"I shall not keep her waiting then." He murmured before striding towards the front doors of the estate where Katherine waited patiently just inside the doors.

"Welcome back, my dear." She smiled warmly at him, wrapping her arms around him.

"It is good to be home." He replied wrapping his arms tightly around her.

Katherine chuckled and kissed his forehead, brushing a lock of rich dark brown hair from her son's eyes.

"How I have missed you." She spoke softly. "And I believe the last time I saw you, you were still below my shoulders. Now you are up to my chin."

William laughed and planted a soft kiss upon his mother's cheek.

"Will!" An excited voice called from the main hall and both William and Katherine turned to see Kate standing with a wide grin on her face, a spot of flour on her nose and a spatter of it on her apron. "You're back!"

Before the young master could respond, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him with surprising strength.

"Oh Will, it has been ever so dull around here without you!" She pulled away, smiling and blushing slightly at her improper actions. "I'm sorry; I just…"

William only laughed and looked down at his vest, which now had bits of flour clinging to it. Katherine only shook her head and smiled.

"Kate, you are _always_ covered in something." He commented with a smirk.

"Well this time, it is flour from the loaf of bread I was making for you when you came home because I knew you'd ask for it. And, of course, there is butter and honey for it as well." Kate finished with a mischievous smile.

William's eyes widened with excitement and Katherine gestured behind him for Kate to bring the bread to the dining hall. Settling her hands gently upon her son's shoulders, she bent down to whisper in William's ear.

"Do remember to thank her, my dear." She chuckled, giving William's shoulders a squeeze.

"I will, Mother." He replied before he made his way into the dining hall.

Katherine followed him and sat down next to him, nodding at Kate as she brought the bread, butter and honey into the hall.

"Thank you, Kate." William spoke, grinning from ear to ear. "It looks wonderful."

Kate smiled, blushing at the compliment before she bowed and turned to leave.

"Are you sure you won't have any with us?" William called after her, causing her to pause in her tracks.

"I made it for _you_, Will. And besides, I'm sure your mother would like to have some time with you being as you just arrived home." She looked at him and gently shook her head, flipping some of her flaxen hair over her shoulder.

William frowned and stared down at the table.

Katherine nodded, the corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards at the girl's consideration.

"Thank you. Though if you like, you can stay here a short while and share some bread with William. It will not be a bother in the least, and besides, I have to take care of something for a short while. In the meantime, please, sit down."

"Very well…" Kate smiled hesitantly and came back to the table, taking a seat next to William, who handed her a slice of bread with butter and honey on it. Meanwhile, Katherine got up from her place and left the room, feeling light headed, and made her way to the nearest washroom and paused outside, placing a hand over her slightly swollen middle.

"Milady?" There was a scuffling noise within the washroom and Blythe came out, carrying a rag in one hand a wiping her brow with the other. "Are you well?" She asked Katherine, her brow knitted in mild concern.

"Yes, I'm fine." Katherine replied. "I am just… having a bit of a moment, I suppose." She gave Blythe a wry smile.

"Ah, is the little one acting difficult again?" Blythe smiled, glancing down at Katherine's swollen belly. "Have you had the chance to tell your son?"

"I have not. In fact, I do not believe William even noticed when he arrived. But of course, he is just glad to be home. I did not mention anything of it in my letters."

"Oh?" Blythe quirked a brow.

"I guess I only figured that he would find out when he got back home. And it was not exactly anything I had planned for, especially now that William is twelve, nearly thirteen." Katherine frowned a bit.

Blythe nodded understandingly.

"Well, he has a mother who loves him, and I'm sure it will be no different with this one, even given the circumstances. And I daresay that even with the age, William will be a wonderful brother to the baby when it is time. Hopefully, the master will lighten a little as well." She smiled at her mistress encouragingly.

"Yes…" Katherine gave a small, wan smile, "how I hope so. For all of our sakes."


	6. Chapter 6

It was nearing the end of December. A bitterly icy wind had begun to stir, nipping at the windowpanes and occasionally seeping through, causing the servants of the Tavington house to stir in their slumber, seeking the depths of their beds for further warmth. Katherine herself was having trouble sleeping and laid awake for several hours, blinking in the darkness and letting out an occasional moan as the child within her moved restlessly about, exhausting her of her energy with each ebbing minute. Garrick, surprisingly enough, was home, and fast asleep in bed next to her, his breathing deep and even as he lay on his back, shrouded in darkness. The faint smell of a foreign perfume wafted up from him and reached Katherine's nose, causing her to scowl darkly. She was hardly surprised; the two seemed to do nothing more than cohabitate, and even that was at a minimum, especially with her pregnancy.

Further down the hall, William shivered and awakened as a gust of wind from outside slipped in from an ajar window nearby, kissing his face with cold, mocking lips. Getting up from his bed, he walked over to the window and pulled down on it until it shut with a loud thud. For a moment he simply stood by it, looking out over the grounds. He could feel the chill on the window while the wind continued to implore to be let in with its soft, whistling song. Normally, the young master might not have been so annoyed with such weather, but as he was trying to sleep, it only made him roll his eyes and groan in irritation. Making his way back to bed, he burrowed beneath the covers, desperate for some reprieve, but the wind's soft yet insistent cries would not allow him sleep and instead, he found himself getting out of bed once more, cursing quietly to himself while his stomach growled with a growing hunger.

"Ruddy weather…" He mumbled, his speech somewhat slurred with sleep. Making his way downstairs, he contemplated exactly how he was going to go about procuring some food. Nothing was instantly accessible, though he didn't necessarily like the idea of waking one of the servants either; if that was the case, William decided that he might as well just go back upstairs to bed and endure an unsettled stomach for the rest of the evening. Especially his father and grandfather, for both of them were far from approachable if awakened by petty issues such as the need for a midnight snack.

"Will?" A female voice whispered in the darkness, not a foot from where William stood at the base of the staircase. The young master startled, letting out a muffled cry before a small hand clamed firmly over his mouth.

"Hush!" Kate whispered to him. "You don't want to wake anyone, do you?" She asked, removing her hand from his mouth.

"So you could not sleep either, I take it?" William asked quietly, allowing his eyes to adjust to her form amongst the shadows.

"No. It's far too cold in the servants' wing for me to sleep." Kate replied with a smile, though he could not see her features. "This winter has been most unkind." She remarked.

William smirked, stifling a chuckle in response.

"Yes, I suppose it has. If it has not snowed or frosted, it has been like this; windy and unpleasant."

"Indeed." Kate consented. "Well, I was hungry and was going to see if there was any cheese or salted meat in store. What of you?"

"The same, actually."

"All right. Well, follow me then. I know the kitchen better than you do."

William laughed and allowed Kate to take his hand as the two darted in and out of corridors until they reached the kitchen. Then, spotting a small candlestick, Kate managed to light it and took it with her, leaving William in the main area of the kitchen as she retrieved a plate of salted pork and some cheese.

"I know it isn't very much, but it should do well enough." Kate set the plate of food on a nearby counter for them to eat. "If you like, I can get you some water as well."

"I believe I am fine with this, though thank you for the offer." William replied gratefully, picking up a piece of meat with his fingers and shoving it eagerly into his mouth while she was more graceful with a slice of cheese.

"So, how has your mother been fairing?" Kate asked in a murmur.

"Well…. Do you not see her?" William asked, raising a brow as he swallowed the meat and started on some cheese.

"Not exactly. Your father has had me off doing work elsewhere in the house while my mother attends to your mother, and by the end of the day, she's so exhausted that she hardly has time to speak of any of the events before she gets into bed and goes right to sleep."

William laughed softly. "I honestly do not know much more than you. I have been busy reviewing my studies for the start of the second half of term. But I suppose Mother is doing fairly enough. She seems tired though. She should be due any time now. That is probably why Father has actually bothered to come home at all during the evening, and why Grandfather is here during the day." He finished with a slight frown.

"Most likely." Kate nodded, taking a piece of meat and ripping it in half before sticking the smaller part in her mouth. "And my mother isn't far away either, should something unexpected happen in the meantime."

William nodded and stared silently into the darkness, chewing slowly on another piece of meat. The wind had died down and all was still in the house. Somewhere in a distant room, a clock chimed, but its echoes were swallowed into the stillness. Outside, snow began to fall, slowly covering the grounds of the house in white.

"Kate, would you like to go riding?" William asked, staring out one of the windows that was visible through one of the kitchen entrances.

"Will, it's freezing outside." Kate replied in a flat tone, raising an eyebrow.

"I do not recall that stopping us before."

"I know." Kate smiled and shook her head. "But I really don't think your father or mother would be very pleased if either one of us were to go out for ride at this hour. I know my mother wouldn't."

William sighed, reluctantly agreeing with a frown.

"There is absolutely _nothing_ to do at the moment, and I cannot sleep."

"That is because you're too busy thinking of everything that is going on around you to just stop and relax for five minutes." Kate spoke.

"Probably." William replied wryly as he grabbed another slice of cheese. For the next ten minutes, the two spoke not a word to one another but simply sat on the countertop and ate, quietly enjoying one another's company amidst the stifling silence and restless air of the estate.

"Kate," William began, breaking the silence, "do you think things will change at all when the baby comes? I mean, do you think Father will be any different? After all, it _is_ what he wanted, is it not?" There was a tone of bitterness in his voice that caused Kate to sigh in a disheartened manner.

"I suppose it very well could. Your mother will be busy, and you might even have a little less leisure time as well."

"That may be, but I am quite sure that I can still find time to go riding on the trails behind our house, and, if you are not busy, you could come along."

"I don't know, Will." Kate began again slowly. "I may not be staying here much longer."

"What?" The surprise was obvious in the young master's voice. "But… the baby is coming, Mother will need your help and…. Why?" The news had struck him like a slap to the face.

"Believe me, Will, I hardly like the idea either. I mean I've lived here all my life. I was born _here_."

"So why must you leave?" William demanded with a quiver in his tone. "You are my best friend, Kate!"

Kate took the plate of food in her hands, moving it aside before she leaned over and wrapped her arms tightly around William, who put up a struggle in response until he realized that she wasn't going to release him and reluctantly stilled, breathing heavily against her shoulder.

"Hush, Will…" She murmured, rocking him gently from side to side in her arms. "I haven't gone away just yet." Kate finished looking down at him with a small smile, though her sea-green eyes reflected an undeniable sadness within them.

"Why must you leave?" William voiced the question once more, looking Kate directly in the eyes with a piercing azure gaze.

"Will, it is not my place to tell you-"

"Kate, no one around here tells me anything anymore; even Mother has seemed guarded about what she says. Can I for once just please have an honest answer? Is that really too much to request?"

Kate bit her lip and furrowed her brow. She knew the young master was right. He had been left out of a good amount of the news circulating about the estate, and she was more than sure that both of his parents would prefer to keep it that way, at least to an extent. Yet all the same, he was her dearest friend, and if she was to ever be in his current position, she knew that she too would not take kindly to being to being left out of the events occurring within the estate. So, with a deep breath, she decided to tell him what he was being kept from knowing.

"Will, your father is losing money. He has been gambling it away. Obviously, your mother knows, and your grandfather knows as well. They're also going to sell the flour mills. Master Garrick cannot afford them anymore. And as for us, well, it's getting too difficult to pay for our labor. So I am not the only one leaving. My mother and father will be leaving also, along with a good deal of the rest of the staff."

William was aghast.

"So this is what I have been missing…" He spoke in a choked tone.

"Will, not everything is ruined. And I'm sure your parents will figure something out."

"But you are leaving. And where will you go?"

"Will, must I tell you again? I'm _not_ leaving yet." Kate smiled down at him. "As for where I will go, we shall worry about that when it comes."

The young master managed a reluctant nod in reply before hanging his head and furrowing his brow. But he hardly had any more time to despair before he spotted sudden movement out in the corridors and Blythe appeared, her face flushed, for she had been rushing throughout the rooms of the estate trying to find her daughter.

"Kate," Blythe's eyes were open and alert, "please come with me at once. Young master, I suggest you head to your room right away."

"What is going on?" William asked in a confused voice, hopping down from the counter and helping Kate down as well.

"Your mother has just gone into labor. Jagger has already left for the midwife and should be back shortly. Now again, to your room and do not tarry!" Blythe responded firmly.

William bit his lip, wanting to inquire further, but Blythe halted him before he could even begin with another stern gaze, her eyes narrowed pointedly at him. So instead, he did as he was told and made his way to his room but made a point of leaving his door cracked open the tiniest bit so he could hear any news from the servants if they might walk past. Yet everyone in the house had now come to such life that they now seemed too busy to even talk, and though they did pass by his room, all William heard outside the swishing of skirts and clipped steps were his mother's muffled cries coming from down the corridor behind closed doors. This seemed to go on endlessly to him, and eventually, he took to pacing across his bedroom floor, pausing every once in a while to see if he could hear anything else, yet nothing changed. Shaking his head anxiously, he defiantly left his room and crept down the hall and into a spare room, keeping to the shadows until he made it to the window and looked out at the grounds. His pony, King, loved frolicking about in the snow and so did the Shire, Henry. Perhaps he would take them out, as it would do well to get his mind off of the commotion that was happening in the house.

Sighing to himself, William made to leave the room but was cut short when he turned and nearly collided with Cynric.

"Were you not told to stay in your room?" Cynric asked, in a soft, sharp voice.

"I'm sorry, Grandfather. It is just that I could not…. I needed to get out for a while."

"Get back to your room, William." Cynric repeated, glaring icily at his grandson.

William swallowed, averting his gaze momentarily but managed to ask, "Is Mother going to be all right?"

"It has only been two hours." Cynric's voice was patronizing. "Pain is normal in this situation, William. After all, it is hardly just a pinprick. And no, I have not been in the room to see how she has been fairing. I suppose if something truly does go wrong, the midwife will inform us. Though as long as she produces another heir, _that_ is what matters." He finished stiffly.

The young master pursed his lips, clenching his jaw in frustration, holding back a scathing response that lingered on the tip of his tongue.

"I shall be in my room." He mumbled before pushing past Cynric, not bothering to look behind him at the burning gaze that he knew was being cast at his back.

Getting to his room once more, William closed the door behind him and sat down upon his bed with a sigh, his eyes wandering to a clock that stood next to his door. It was two in the morning and his body yearned for sleep, yet his mind was far too alert to allow for such respite. He got up off of the bed and began to pace across his bedroom floor again, taking note as the minutes slowly grew into hours and of these he counted three before deciding that it was best not to look at the clock at all.

In the master bedchamber, the midwife was busy dabbing a cool cloth on Katherine's forehead, looking down at the lady with a worried expression upon her features. Things were not going well. Katherine had already begun to fade in exhaustion two hours earlier. Now, she looked horrendously pallid and there was still no child to show for it.

"My lady…"

Katherine only moaned in response, closing her glassy-looking eyes in pain. She dearly wished to see her son, and had managed to voice this several times before growing too tired to speak.

The midwife frowned deeply and got up from the bedside, making her way out of the room where Garrick stood stock still just outside the door.

"Well?" He demanded stuffily.

"Milord, she is terribly exhausted."

"And….?" Garrick asked flatly. "Anything yet? Or is this going to continue to take a miserably long time?"

The midwife bit her lip and averted her gaze to the floor so that he would not see her frustrated expression.

"Sir," She began in a slow, careful voice, "I don't know if things are going to be as you may have expected."

"What do you mean?" Garrick questioned sharply, causing her to wince at his voice.

"Your wife may not pull through; sir, she has been growing less and less responsive with the time." The midwife replied quickly, looking Garrick dead in the eyes.

"She may not pull through…." Garrick raised a brow and then strode past her, ignoring her protests as he opened the doors to the master bedchamber and made his way to his wife's bedside.

"Katherine…" He spoke softly in her ear, stroking her forehead. "My dear…" Garrick slowly turned her head so that she could look directly at him, but her eyes remained glassy and her breathing was strained and thin.

"William…. Please, let me…." Katherine's voice died in her throat and she swallowed hard, turning her head away.

Garrick gave her a dark look.

"He can see you after all of this. Once you are cleaned up." He spoke quietly.

Slowly, Katherine turned back to him, forcing herself to focus at least the tiniest amount as she replied, "Garrick….there is not going to be an 'afterwards'. Please, let William come in."

"Not when you are like this." Garrick replied firmly. "He would not want it."

Katherine looked at her husband imploringly, squeezing his forearm lightly; she was desperate to see her son.

"No, Katherine. Not like this." Garrick repeated, pulling away from her.

"Please, milord, she is-" The midwife began to speak in Katherine's defense but was immediately cut off.

"I do not remember giving you any orders other than to make sure that she gives me a healthy heir; until that, my son is _not_ permitted to come in. Is that clear?" He snapped, glaring at her until she nodded reluctantly. Then, with a derisive scoff, Garrick strode out of the room, murmuring incoherently to himself.

Katherine watched him leave, her eyes glassy once more as she turned her head away from the door.

"My poor dear." The midwife walked over to her and looked down at her with a pitiful gaze.

"William…" Katherine mouthed in silent agony.

"Mother?" A voice called softly from the entrance and the midwife looked over to see William standing just outside the entrance.

"Young master, what are you doing here?" She asked in surprise.

"I did not want to stay in my room." William replied simply, stepping into the room, but took no further steps when the midwife shook her head desperately.

"Your father does not want you in here!" She spoke in a strained voice.

"My father just left for a drink in the study and my grandfather joined him. I watched them leave." William replied smartly. "Please, let me see my mother."

The midwife pursed her lips but reluctantly agreed, stepping aside so that the young master could make his way to Katherine's bedside.

"Mother?" William asked once more as he came to stand beside her.

Slowly, Katherine turned towards her son, her glazed eyes brightening ever so slightly.

"William…" She managed a weak smile; William was horrified. Never before had he seen her so sickly looking; to him, this was nothing more than a mere ghost of the radiant woman whom he had known for so long as his mother.

"Mother, what has happened-"

Katherine reached up and placed a finger on her son's lips, quieting him immediately before she tugged at his collar, gesturing for him to lean in closer to her. Obediently, William bent down and kissed her cheek, looking over at her with worried eyes. But Katherine's only response was to smile once more and give him a soft kiss on the forehead.

"I love you." She murmured to him in a nearly inaudible voice.

"Mother... Don't go. Not now…" William began to plead. "You still have to help me go over my lessons tomorrow. And it is Christmas in two days…"

Again, Katherine quieted him with a finger to his lips.

"Not this time, love." Katherine shook her head meekly.

"But I cannot do this on my own." William replied in a shaky voice.

"Be strong, William." Katherine whispered, caressing the side of his face.

"Mother no!" William protested desperately.

"I love you…"

"Mother…" William repeated once more.

Katherine didn't respond.

"Mother!" The young master tried desperately to call her back, but it was no use. Her royal blue gaze had dimmed completely and gone distant.

William pulled away from his mother, trembling as he reached over and closed her eyes, giving her one last kiss on the cheek before he turned towards the door, where Garrick stood with a brandy bottle in his left hand. His eyes burned with rage at the sight of his son in the room and he stepped forward, grabbed William by the collar of his shirt and shoved him hard out the door, where the young master stumbled and landed on the floor before his grandfather's feet while the door slammed shut behind him.

"Get up." Cynric spoke quietly, looking down at his grandson with disdainful eyes. William only winced but made no move to get off the floor. Huffing in irritation, Cynric reached down, grabbed the young master and hauled him roughly to his feet.

"I said _get up_!" The elder Tavington hissed before giving his grandson a rough shove towards the end of the hall. "And get to your room!"

Too stunned and hurt to fight his grandfather, William crept away from Cynric towards his room, opening the door and collapsing down upon his knees, hiding his face in his hands while trails of burning tears dampened his face and reddened his eyes. Still, he made no noise and listened carefully at the sound of the master bedchamber doors opening once more as Garrick stepped into the hall.

"So…" Cynric's expectant voice could be heard from down the hall. "Anything at all?"

"No," Garrick's tone was a rough one, "Katherine is dead."

"And the child? Garrick, what of the child?" The Tavington patriarch pressed.

"The child would have been stillborn." Garrick replied tightly.

"Garrick, I-"

"It was a _girl_ anyway." He cut Cynric off sharply. "There is no second heir to be had."

William swallowed hard at his father's words, willing himself to stay silent so that he could hear the rest of the conversation, but Cynric didn't seem to answer right away. Then, about a minute later, the patriarch replied, "William can _not_ be your heir. Not if you want a successful line. He is naught but a burden who has yet to prove his worth, and now that Katherine is gone, there is no one here to object to anything that you decide for him… Send William back to school."

"Yes yes, I understand that-"

"Garrick, at this point, a bastard would be better than the one you have by right. William is worthless."

William began to shake as his grandfather's words echoed from down the hall, filling him with shame, yet he found the embarrassment quickly replaced by a quiet anger.

"Worthless…" The young master repeated his grandfather's words to himself, staring at the still open entrance of his room. Getting up off of the floor, William walked over to his door and slammed it shut, letting it shake and protest upon its hinges, listening into the heavy silence that followed before walking over to sit on his bed. "Not today."


	7. Chapter 7

Years had passed and surely enough, the young master Tavington had seen his family's fortune and prestige change to little more than a heap of rubble. Four years after Katherine's death, Cynric had passed away due to illness. Still, things hardly improved and nearly all of the servants had left their home. All except for one old, balding man named Stephen, whom William had likened to a grumpy old boar and had seen fit to distance himself from, especially since the servant spent a great deal of time looking after his father. Garrick had not aged well. His reckless lifestyle had left him overweight with a number of health problems. Some days, it was even a chore for the master to get out of bed. Secretly, Garrick's pains pleased William greatly, and he would pass by his father's quarters with a shameless smirk upon his countenance if Garrick's complaining grew especially notable.

Today was one of those days. William had awakened early, just before the first rays of light began to turn the still, dark sky to a grey-white color. Always a light sleeper and never one to sleep well or late, the young master took a short amount of time to bathe and dress before looking himself over in a full-length mirror. Staring back at him was a young man who had changed considerably over the years. William, once small and gangly, had grown quite tall, nearly as tall as his father. He had filled out nicely too, for plenty of riding, swordplay and other sports had granted him agility, quick reflexes, and a lean, muscular build. The young master's countenance was nearly devoid of any youthful boyish roundness, and had fine, strong features. His was a commanding face that needed only to look at a man for them to know that he had come from high blood. But there was a coldness about William as well. A look of severity had developed in his glacial blue eyes long ago and had set his lips in a near perpetual grimace. Yet he never spoke of it, and others knew better than to ask. His rich, thick, dark hair was pulled back tightly from his face, heightening the look of unfriendliness in his appearance, but William did not care to look warm. It was best that people kept to themselves anyway.

Seeing himself as sufficient in appearance for the day, William reached forward and ghosted a finger across the top of the mirror, pulling it away to reveal a thin layer of dust. He frowned. The mirror had been one of his mother's few possessions that he had managed to keep, along with a simple golden ring, before his father had sold off the rest of her belongings. William had ordered Stephen on far more than one occasion to make sure the mirror was cleaned and dusted, but as the servant had more loyalty to Garrick, the young master usually ended up doing the cleaning on his own.

Turning to leave the room and grab a cloth for the mirror, William paused at the grumbles coming from Garrick's room. They weren't clear to be sure, but William could more than guess that his father was complaining once more about his back and possibly something else.

"It was hurting all of last night… I woke up several hours ago and was not able to go back to sleep because of it."

"I am sorry, Master Garrick. I can get you something if you like."

And William is being far too loud in the morning. I can hear the boy from down the corridor and behind a closed door.

"Ungrateful wretch…And I was hardly loud at all. The rats in the cellar make more of a racket." The young master murmured to himself before leaving the room. Walking down the stairs and through deserted corridors, William passed by the entrance to the servants quarters, now sealed off and deserted collecting sheets of dust and filth, for Stephen was the only one left and he slept in a tiny room in a secluded area of the house.

Arriving at the room where Stephen kept his cleaning things, William grabbed two rags and a bucket of water and hauled them upstairs. Then he returned back to his room and set to work, carefully dampening one the rags and proceeded to clean every inch of the mirror, minding the little groves in the intricate woodwork of its mahogany frame. Once the mirror was dusted and dried off, the young master returned the bucket of water and rags to their rightful place before he made his way out to the stables.

Like the estate, the stables no longer held the grandeur that they once had. The vast amount of stalls were bare save for three, which housed a young Shire mare named Bella, Garrick's chestnut Thoroughbred Ignatius, and a bay colored Thoroughbred gelding named Pip, who also belonged to his father, but was mostly ridden by either Stephen or himself.

Passing by a stall near the end of the stables, William rubbed the dust off of the wooden placard on one of the stall doors and gave a small smile. His beloved Fell pony, King, had once resided here, but like the other empty spaces, the stall had been abandoned, for King had gone blind and grown sickly, and Garrick had ordered him to be done away with while William was away in London.

"Now… what to do with myself…" William said to no one in particular. The day had barely begun and already, he was beginning to feel restless. "I suppose…"

Spotting an empty bucket and a tattered rag, William gave the rest of the stables a quick look over.

_This place really is quite shabby. Work for improvement could take all day. After all, I don't believe it has been given a decent coat of paint since I was about eight. Really, the walls are peeling! Where has the dignity gone in here?_ _Rotting stall doors, moldy hay and insects in empty stalls… Just because we don't use all of the room here does not mean that it has to look half abandoned and decrepit. _

Thankfully for his current irritation, William had nothing better to do for the day, for all of his duties that needed to be fulfilled had been taken care of. So, he filled the bucket with water and grabbed a rag, fetching a broom and rake as he went before setting all the supplies in King's empty stall. Further towards the entrance to the stables, the remaining horses nickered, pulling William from his concentration on work with their wishes to be let out of the stables and into the pasture.

"Oh all right." He shook his head, smirking as he grabbed a lead rope and made his way first to the stall of Ignatius, where the Thoroughbred reached out and nipped at his shirtsleeve, ears pricked eagerly.

"Yes, yes you first, you oaf." William smacked the stallion's neck playfully as he slipped the lead rope on him and opened the stall door to let him out. Graciously, Ignatius followed and soon found himself grazing in a small but open section of pasture. After Ignatius, William went back in and retrieved both Bella and Pip to let them out into another small patch of pasture near Ignatius before setting to work, cleaning the stalls and generally making an attempt to restore some semblance of splendor to the stables. It wasn't easy, but the young man found contentment in it, being alone and away from the drab yet condescending air that seemed to hang over his father and the house. Perhaps he would take another trip to London once he was finished with the stables. After all, he had finished all necessary work both financially and around the estate. Garrick probably wouldn't even know he was away, and if he did, William would not be missed. But he would wait until his current task was completed before making any decisions.

Hours wore by, slowed by the heat of the midday sun. William continued his work, taking few breaks while he continued scrubbing away at the floor before he found paint to begin coating some of the more faded areas of the stables with. Once that was finished and the three occupied stalls were cleaned to his liking with new beds of fresh straw, the light of the day was beginning to fade into night. Looking up from his completed work, William wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow, a small, satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Yes, the place certainly looked better than before, with some new paint, dusting, door repairs and a good scrub of the floor. It still looked considerably bare with the open stalls, but that could not be helped. William had done what he could and was pleased with the results. Picking up a broom that he had used, the young master carried it back to King's stall, where he had stored the rest of the supplies and left the stables. The horses could afford to be out in pasture for one night, especially a warm one such as this.

"What have you been up to that you have returned with your shirt sticking to you with sweat? Surely you cannot have toiled so hard on a summer day, young master. Even the best of sportsmen are likely to be relaxing."

"Well I would do the same if the stables did not require some attention. It really is an embarrassment." William's voice was calm, but his blue eyes were like daggers as his gaze swept over the servant.

Stephan frowned stubbornly and replied in an equally even tone, "Your father needed my assistance for the day. Surely that is more important than making sure the stables have a fresh coat of paint upon their walls."

"I suppose so…" William clenched his jaw, giving the elder man a stiff nod before pushing past him to get to his quarters. Once inside, he pulled off his shirt completely tossed it carelessly upon his bed. Looking down at his now bare chest, William frowned. A bath was most definitely a priority at the current moment and because he did not wish to further interact with Stephen than he already had, William took it upon himself to prepare it. As soon as everything was to his liking, William closed and locked the door behind him before stripping down and stepping to sink into the warm water. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, he immediately got his hair wet and began to wash it, enjoying the feel of the warm water upon his skin. On a cooler day, he would have made sure the water was near scalding, but William felt warm enough as it was, so he let the temperature set at just above lukewarm. Yet he still did not take time to be too leisurely and was finished bathing fairly quickly, and dressed in his evening wear in even less time. Making his way from the washroom back to his bedchamber William pulled out a satchel and pulled several outfits from his chest of drawers. It was too late to leave for London right then, but he had decided to leave with Pip at first light the next morning.

"Pip…PIP!" William hissed, gesturing madly at the young bay gelding to come closer. But Pip only snorted in response and pranced about just out of reach. He had been behaving impishly all morning and though the gelding may have thought the situation amusing, William was anything but pleased, for he was nearly an hour behind his schedule.

"Bloody sprite." The young master watched the Thoroughbred prance about the pasture, tossing his mane and tail as if he was somebody important. Then, seizing the opportunity when Pip wasn't paying attention, William reached out and grabbed the horse's halter, making Pip stop suddenly and look over at him with large, surprised eyes.

"Well did you really believe I would allow you to carry on like this?" He asked the horse, rolling his eyes as he led him away to the stables to be groomed and saddled. Pip snorted, reaching out to nip at William's shoulder before he planted his hooves firmly to the floor just outside his stall door, determined to make the ordeal as difficult as he possibly could.

William scowled and pulled on Pip's halter, but the Thoroughbred wouldn't budge.

"Nasty git." The young master pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the horse, whose only response was to stare back with laughing brown eyes. "Very well, have it your way then." William let go of Pip's halter and walked a couple steps over to a barrel full of apples, retrieving one in the hopes of persuading Pip into listening. However, no sooner than he had taken a single step than Pip walked calmly into his stall and stood stock-still to be groomed.

"Impossible! That is what you are! Impossible!" William's tone was strained. But the Thoroughbred only stared calmly back, even refusing the apple when it was handed to him.

"Very well then. I will not pack any on the way for you either." William mumbled stubbornly as he began the grooming process, brushing Pip until his coat shined. Then, with a quick check of the horse's hooves, William quickly saddled him, grabbed his satchel, and headed on his way to London, stopping occasionally to rein Pip in from his colt-like antics.

Nearly three days later, William and Pip reached the city of London. It was crowded, bustling with all sorts of activity, and _very_ dirty. Yet there was something William liked about it. Whether it was all of the things to do and see in London, whether it be a public hanging, the Royal Menagerie, various presentations on new technology, or the simple excitement of being in England's capitol, he did not know. But through the entire hubbub, he was still well aware of his first priorities to find lodging for both him and Pip. There were more than enough places to stay, though William was particular about his conditions. He wanted some place at least a little quiet that offered good care for the horses, and good food for supper and breakfast. Not to mention, a comfortable place to sleep. But he was careful not to spend too freely on luxuries and after an hour of searching, he found a place to his liking and gladly handed Pip over to a stable hand. Then he made his way into the inn and up a flight of creaky wooden stairs, down a short narrow corridor and in to a medium sized room with a bed and an old, rickety looking chair inside. Setting his satchel down in the chair, William sat down on the side of the bed, taking a few minutes to decide what he would do to occupy his time next. After about ten minutes of debating, he reluctantly decided upon a stroll about the city surrounding the inn. He had hoped for a more direct agenda, but upon arriving, could not figure out exactly what he wanted to do outside of finding a place to stay.

Pulling his clothing out of his satchel, William laid his outfits out on the bed before stuffing the rest of the contents back in and left the room. Halfway out the front door of the inn, William blinked in the brightness of the overhead sunlight but then suddenly bristled and tensed as a sugary voice called behind him, "Master Tavington, is that you?"

William didn't answer, gripping the doorframe until his knuckles turned white.

"Master Tavington…. Garrick?" The voice asked again, near William's right shoulder.

Slowly, he turned around to face a woman who looked to be only several years older than him, with light brown hair and hazel eyes that had a mischievous glint to them. Yet from the look of her clothing, William could also tell that she was little more than a whore seeking to warm a bed and earn some coin for it, and the fact that she knew his father made him all the more angry. Glaring at her with infuriated blue eyes, William spoke in a quiet voice, "I believe you have me mistaken for someone else. I hardly know the man you speak of."

"Oh…" The woman spoke slowly, a hint of discomfort creeping into her eyes but she did not avert her gaze from the young man before her. "I'm terribly sorry. You just… you looked like him. I should have looked more carefully."

"Indeed, you should have." William spoke icily, scorning her with his eyes. Then, before more could be said, he stepped out the door and was swallowed into the city crowds that filtered through cobble-stoned streets while buildings with thatched roofs and signs hanging from them to advertise pubs, smith-shops, tailor shops, and other interests of the people, bordered him in both his left and right sides.

"Filthy harlot." He muttered, weaving in and out of the crowds, carefully avoiding bumping into the people closely crowded around him jostling each other in an attempt to get from one place to another. Once he was several blocks away from the inn, William turned to go into the Red Lion pub. It was crowded, dimly lit and smelled of smoke. Even the wooden beams on the ceiling, though dark already, seemed to have turned a shade closer to black from smoke stains.

"Is there anything I might get you, sir?" The barman asked when he walked in.

"Only a pint of ale, and bring it to the table over there." William gestured at a small, lone table in the corner of the pub.

"Very well, it will be a minute or two."

William nodded vaguely and strode over to his seat, rolling his eyes when he saw a couple of women eying him suspiciously, as if they recognized him from some place. To further distract himself from curious eyes, William pulled out an old book and pretended to read while waiting for his drink.

"Here you are, sir." A young man about William's age walked up to him with his pint of ale.

"Thank you." William nodded vaguely and reached for the drink, dismissing the server with a casual wave of his hand, watching the server's retreating back while he went. The pub was growing still more crowded, for people were coming in to take breaks from their work. The Smokey smell in the pub began to grow stronger and the air more stale and stuffy. It was time to leave. Finishing the last of his pint, William set the empty mug down upon the wooden table and stalked out of the pub and back into the streets. Glancing occasionally at the endless rows of shops, he only found mild interest in one with crafts by a blacksmith, yet it looked quite occupied so he only passed by. Further down the street, more shops beckoned him in, though he only entered three, and all for very short amounts of time. He was still restless, and it was beginning to grate on him.

_It should not be this way. Good lord, Will, there are plenty of things to do around here. You could look at a new pair of boots. You know your old pair is wearing quickly. Or perhaps take a look at one of the small armoires. After all, how long have you been griping about the fact that your fencing sword is a tad bit off balance? Honestly man, pick a shop and just __**go inside**_! _How complicated can this be?_

Neither the country, nor the city was able to suffice; William needed to keep moving.

After nearly another two hours of wandering, swift strides carried William to the banks of the River Thames, where he stood and watched all manner of ships coming into port to either import or export cargo. Taking a few steps closer to the bank, he noticed a particularly large cargo ship out of the right corner of his eye as it anchored and began to unload its shipments. Thinking it was simply another ship full of silks from the Orient, he was about to walk away when a fierce neighing scream sounded from the gangplank, causing him to look back in surprise. The cargo was hardly any type of silk, but instead, horses. As he watched, two weathered looking men appeared on the gangplank, attempting to lead a dark chestnut Cob onto land. The animal refused to go at first, tossing his head in an effort to pull away, but was soon calmed and went complacently down the gangplank, while a number of other Cobs and a couple of Clydesdales and Shires followed. Then, after the heavy horses had been unloaded, the two men brought out yet another horse, a young, chestnut Thoroughbred colt. He looked sickly, and his ribs were showing due to malnourishment; William stared in confusion as to what a poor animal such as the beast before him was doing in the company of the finer, healthier horses that had been led out earlier. But he didn't have much time to wonder, for one of the men turned to his compatriot and spoke in a gravely voice, "Is this the one that's goin' to the glue fa'ory then, Ralph?"

"Yes, 'e's the one. Apparently a sour one; the master said 'e won' let anyone near 'im." Ralph replied keeping a strong hold on the lead as the young cold was indeed putting up a struggle. William was mildly surprised that such a frail looking animal still had the amount of fight in him that the colt did.

_Why on earth do they not just shoot the poor beast? That would at least be merciful…_

Yet as the men continued to guide the struggling colt down the gangplank, he gave a violent jerk backward, rearing up on his hind legs and nearly fell into the river below. His handlers gave a yell and moved quickly in an attempt to get him to his feet but he lunged and snapped at them. Without thinking, William himself strode onto the gangplank, stepping in front of one of the men and grabbing a hold of the colt's reins. The colt lunged at him as well, keeping his weight on the gangplank, but William was equally firm, and eventually coaxed the Thoroughbred to a begrudging stand.

"I say, you's a lucky one, boy." The handler, Ralph commented, taking a step closer to William. "'e 'ates everyone. D' you think you can git 'im offa here?"

William shrugged and attempted another pull, but the colt wouldn't budge. Instead, he lunged forward and landed a solid bite on his shoulder.

"I s'pose not then…" Ralph replied as William winced and glared at the colt, whose only response was to stare back, his dark brown eyes pooling with a growing fury. For some reason, it intrigued him, the defiance of an animal so frail and so clearly out of his element.

_You want to fight, do you?_

"Does this one have a name?" William asked.

"Don' fink so." Ralph's partner spoke up. "'e's only gone by Devil 'orse on this ship, an' tha's 'cause 'e's bin a git the entire time."

"Well, I can take him then." William replied.

Ralph's eyes widened.

"_You_ want to take _this_ beast? Sonny, 'e's useless. Starved, untrainable, and 'eaded straight for the factory."

William pursed his lips and persisted, "I can pay you twice as much as what they will give you at the factory. Just let me have him."

"Are you mad? 'e's dangerous!" Ralph cried, dodging a lunge from the colt. "You'll probably jus' en' up takin' 'im to the factory yaself."

William looked at him steadily and pulled out a bag of coins to show to the men.

_This is most of my coin for this trip. But if emaciation is the only thing I have to be concerned about apart from his obviously stubborn temper, then that should not be too hard to remedy._

"Here. Take it or leave it; but I am only offering it once."

Ralph considered the young man's words carefully, looking down at the bag of coins and back up at William's face, which expressed a genuine seriousness about the situation before his gaze travelled over to the colt, who looked as if he might lunge once more.

"Wha is it tha' you want with 'im? He'll take a lo' of trainin'. Don' reckon 'e's even broken yet. As I said, you'd probably jus' en' up takin' 'im to the glue factory yaself, an' sellin' 'im for a higher price than us." The man looked at William with a hint of suspicion.

"I only want to use him for riding. And I can train him myself. He will not be going to any factory."

"Well, I 'ave no need for 'im, so take 'im." He spoke with a final, somewhat reluctant nod.

"Thank you." William replied, handing Ralph the coins while he took the reins of the colt, holding him in to keep him from lunging and biting while they started down the gangplank once more and into the crowds.

"Good luck wif' 'im." Ralph called.

"Indeed…" William replied, more to himself, keeping a careful eye on the Thoroughbred, who seemed to be looking for any opening possible to escape and run amok. With that, he left the port area and started back towards the inn, passing by several redcoat infantry soldiers.

"Rotten excuse for a horse, is he not, Tom? Should be shot dead." The soldier nearest to William whispered to his compatriot. Tavington would have hardly noticed them at all, but one of the soldiers smacked the colt hard on the rump with a crop and he gave a piercing neigh, pulling so hard at the lead that it dug into William's hand, cutting his skin so that his palm began to bleed.

"Easy… Easy boy…" William ignored the pain in his hand and quickly brought the colt back under control; meanwhile, the infantrymen had left at first opportunity. When they finally returned to the inn where he was staying, a stablehand came to retrieve the colt, but William waved him off.

"I will see to this one on my own." He spoke in a gruff tone.

"Very well, sir." The stablehand looked relieved and a little confused as to what a young man of obvious aristocratic breeding could possibly want with the pitiful looking animal that he was leading.

Moving past the stablehand, William kept the Thoroughbred on a short lead all the way into the stables, where Pip greeted him from a stall in the back with a high-pitched nicker.

William merely smiled smugly, fingering a couple of horse treats in his pocket. He would wait until after he had the colt settled to move to the other horse.

"Not yet, Pip." He spoke. The gelding snorted and looked away, pawing impatiently at the floor of his stall while William found an empty stall to place the Thoroughbred in, but as he attempted, the colt pulled once more at the lead.

"Come now…" William sighed and tugged at the lead, but he wouldn't budge. Keeping one hand tightly on the lead, William turned and faced the horse. "You really have no room to be difficult with me. Look at yourself…" He gestured at the colt, who merely continued to stare at him with hostile eyes. Shaking his head once more, William pulled harder at the lead, forcing the Thoroughbred to move until he got him into the stall and put him in cross-ties. There, he carefully inspected the colt, looking for any other signs of neglect or abuse aside from the obvious weight loss. Thorough assessment found nothing of concern on the horse's legs, hooves, belly, sides, back, rump, or tail. But when William looked over the colt's chest, he found scars. They were very faint and he almost missed them. And when he _did _notice them, he didn't think much of them until he found the same faint scars on his muzzle and face.

"Now what is _this_?" He grasped at the cross-ties to keep the colt's head still as he inspected the scars more closely. The Thoroughbred jerked and pulled at the ties, a look of anger and fear in his eyes.

"Calm down, boy…" William attempted to coax the colt while holding tightly to the cross-ties. "Everything is all right…" Slowly stretching out his free hand, William held it out palm-down to the colt's muzzle for him to smell, but the colt positively trembled and screamed in response, looking as if his new master might strike him at any second. Quickly, William dropped his hand, the clarity of the situation dawning on him.

_Been beaten have you? And from the looks of it, they used a whip, not a crop…_

"All right, all right…" William murmured, taking the Thoroughbred out of the cross-ties and closing the stall door. The colt snorted and retreated into a far corner of the stall, pawing at the floor as he went. He still needed to be fed. William went about this carefully, gathering a small amount of food that was neither too rich, nor completely lacking in nutrients. But when he made to place it into the feeding area of the stall, the Thoroughbred turned and snapped at him, biting his forearm.

William pulled back with a yelp, nearly spilling the food, blood seeping through the white sleeve of his shirt.

The colt had his ears pinned back and moving to lunge yet again, but William was prepared and backed out before he could land a second bite.

"Well, they were hardly joshing when they said you refused let anyone near you…" He murmured to the Thoroughbred, who paced restlessly in his stall, eying the food in William's hands, yet he was too wary to make any attempt to move towards it.

_Come now, I know you are famished. I know you want food. And I am not about to leave yet._

Waiting until he was quite sure that the colt wasn't watching, William quietly placed the food in a corner of the stall, and backed away slowly, watching from a distance to see if the colt would eat anything. After a moment or so, the Thoroughbred eyed the food and cautiously wandered over to it. Sniffing it hesitantly, he hovered just above it for another moment before the hunger became too much for him and he began to eat.

"Good boy." William continued to watch the colt, grasping at his bitten forearm while he made careful mental notes on how fast and how much the Thoroughbred ate.

The horse wasted hardly any time in finishing his food; once it was completely devoured, he looked expectantly at the corner where it had been placed, as if more would appear, but William knew better than to appease him to the fullest extent.

After a few moments, the expectant look went away and was replaced by a morose expression before the colt let out soft whinny and backed further into his stall, his face hidden from sight.

William watched a few more moments before he continued on to Pip's stall so that the young gelding would not feel too excluded.

"Jealous, are you?" He asked when approaching the bay gelding, who was eying him reproachfully. "Really, Pip, you are hardly being abandoned."

Pip only looked unconvinced before he turned his head away.

"Pip…" William pulled a treat from the pocket of his breeches and held it out for the gelding to take, but he resisted, snorting and turning completely away.

"Very well then; nothing for you." William shrugged and turned to leave, just as Pip turned back to him and nickered. He had decided that perhaps he wanted the treat after all. "No, nothing for you." William replied firmly. "You had your chance. And now you will have to wait until tomorrow to try again."

Without waiting for any further gestures from the gelding, the young master strode out of the stables, leaving Pip to paw at his stall floor and brood.

….

The next morning began early, just as the one before had. Though he was planning on staying a couple more days in London, William's funds were beginning to run low and he thought it best to start back home before he could dig himself into financial trouble.

After gathering his things and putting them back in his satchel, William paid the innkeeper and stepped out to the stables. Pip was easy enough to groom and ready, but William was more concerned about the colt, which was pacing about in his stall anxiously. He had not been fed yet though from the looks of one of the stablehands who was holding his arm and giving the Thoroughbred a nasty look, it had been attempted. So, as he had the day before, William carefully fed the colt, dodging a lunge and bite aimed at his shoulder as he did so before backing away and monitoring the Thoroughbred with a critical gaze until he had finished. Then it was time for grooming and getting the leadrope on him so that they could leave. Thankfully, William had left the halter on the horse, so he would not have to fight harder than was necessary when it came to this. But by the time he had the colt on the lead behind him and Pip, William still had two new bites on his shoulders and a hoof-print from a nasty kick in his side.

"Luck if I ever get us home without something going terribly wrong…" He spoke with a grating tone of pain, sitting atop Pip as straight as he could and tossing the infuriated chestnut colt on the lead behind them a stern glance.

Slowly, he began his way out of the stables, keeping a firm hold on the colt's lead and Pip's reins for the latter was in one of his playful moods yet again, and had attempted to sidestep and prance about the stables before being forced out into the streets.

"Pip, I want _none_ of your antics on the way home. Absolutely _none_ of them." William whispered in the gelding's pricked ear. But Pip only nickered in response and attempted a jerky gate for about five minutes until his less than pleased rider forced him back into line. Meanwhile, William had to contend with Pip's sporadic antics and the Thoroughbred colt's stubborn anger throughout the ride out of London and was constantly having to show his authority to the colt, who attempted to lunge and bite at every turn he came upon. Yet as luck would have it, he made it home in three days with both horses and him intact and not much worse for wear. After unsaddling Pip, William let the delighted gelding out to pasture, but placed the colt in a large stall next to the Shire, Bella. Then, after making sure he had an adequate meal, he turned and started towards the entrance, leaving the colt to be on his own.

"That one new?" The young master paused and looked over his shoulder to see the servant, Stephen, coming in from the back entrance of the stables.

"Yes. I bought him in London." William replied curtly.

"Well I sure hope he wasn't a fortune. He's got death written all over that bony frame of his."

"He will be _perfectly healthy_ soon enough, Stephen." William bristled. "Food and good training are all he needs. Just leave him to me, and do not go near him in the meantime."

Stephen shrugged in response.

"I will do that, sir. Though I would have picked a better specimen to take." He spoke in what might have appeared to be a polite manner, yet his tone was hinged with a condescending note that William did well to ignore.

"Good." William answered. "Then if you are finished up here, you may be on your way."

"I am, sir. Though I have one more question, if I may."

The young master restrained himself from rolling his eyes and instead, fixed the servant with an irritated stare.

"What is it then?" He asked.

"Does that beast have a name?" The servant questioned, gesturing at the colt.

William hesitated and looked down at the floor. He had been so caught up in just making sure that he, Pip and the colt arrived home safely that he hadn't quite thought of a name for the new horse. He had tossed ideas about, but had not concretely decided on any one name.

_They did call him Devil Horse while he was on the ship… And I see no reason in taking that away from him; it befits his character well enough._

"He hasn't got a name?" Stephen's voice cut through his thoughts.

"He has a name." William replied firmly. "His name is Asmodeus."


	8. Chapter 8

It was fall. The leaves had turned and their dead scent permeated the air. William had awakened early, alone in the morning darkness. Garrick had passed away only months before, leaving the new master with an increasingly indignant Stephen. The servant practically leeched off of what little was left of the Tavington income and William hated him for it. Still, he found solace in training Asmodeus, which was no easy trick. The stallion still refused the bridle and grooming was risky on its own. Countless times, he had thought of moving out on his own, maybe to a cottage or flat, far away from Liverpool; as it was, finances wouldn't allow it, so, in short, William was stuck.

Getting up out of bed, William planted bare feet hard on something sharp and jumped, looking down to see that he had trod on one of his toy soldiers from boyhood.

"Dammit!" He cursed, picking up the tiny British Regular in his hand, giving it an indignant stare. Just the night before, he had been twiddling the thing idly in his hands, watching Asmodeus munch away on a small bale of hay.

Tossing the toy carelessly on his bed, William ordered walked down the hall to Stephen's quarters, where he found the old servant dusting his father's old, empty bookcase.

"Stephen, draw me a bath."

"Yes master." The Servant replied stiffly, ceasing his chore to draw the bath. Returning to his room, William picked up the toy soldier from his bed, staring at it for a few moments before pocketing it and went back to Stephen's quarters. He had decided to move the bookcase to his own room. Stephen would complain, but William didn't care. It was the only thing of Garrick's that he had any attachment to.

The bookcase heavy and William just barely managed to move it into his room, facing it against the wall next to his door. Then, taking the toy soldier from his pocket, he placed it on the bottommost shelf, giving it a look of approval.

"Master," Stephen's voice called, "Your bath awaits."

William left his room, closing the door authoritatively behind him and went to the washroom, where a basin of lukewarm water, soap, and a sponge awaited him. Stripping down, he allowed his clothes to fall around his feet as he stepped out of them and into the basin. Stooping down, he gathered water in his hands and splashed it over his body. Slowly, William knelt down in the basin, rubbing a knot in the back of his left shoulder, nimble fingers gracing childhood scars. Picking up the sponge, he rubbed the soap on it and began to wash himself with ritualistic strokes. First, he began with the back of his neck, then his shoulders and chest; after that his belly and legs before finishing with the rest of his body. He took time with his hair, for it was thick, and tangled easily. Once William was finished wringing it with his hands, it hung in loose curls just past his shoulders.

"Stephen!" The master called, "Bring me my razor and looking glass."

"Yes, Master Tavington..." Stephen's muffled voice came from down the hall. Moments later, the servant returned, razor and mirror in hand, setting them on a stool next to the washbasin and left the room. William picked up the razor in his right hand, dipping it into the water and rubbed soap on it. Then, he grabbed the mirror in his other hand and held it out before him, shaving with the grain of his face. Switching the position of his razor, he momentarily lost concentration and winced as the razor cut into the skin of his cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood. William set the razor aside, wiping the blood off with the back of his hand and called Stephen once more for a towel. Wrapping it around his midsection, he stepped out of the washbasin and made his way back to his room. William dropped the towel around him and walked naked to his chest of drawers. There, he pulled out a linen shirt, cravat, brown breeches, and a pair of old stockings that needed to be darned.

"Runty things." He said softly, tossing them on his bed before pulling the shirt on, tying the cravat before starting with the breeches. Once he had those on, he returned to his chest of drawers and pulled out a needle and thread to start work on his stockings. His mother's teaching had done him well and within a minute, he was finished. Slipping on his stockings, William reached for his riding boots and pulled them on.

William made his way to a table next to his bed where a brush lay. He picked it up and carefully worked the snarls out of his hair before tying it back. Glancing sideways to a couple of vests hanging in his closet, he chose a navy blue one, neatly pressed, and put it on over his linen shirt before striding out of the room.

Not surprisingly, the Master found his way to the broken down stables. Only one stall functioned properly, which was fine for him. It was just enough for Asmodeus. He found the horse munching on an apple he had left for him the night before. The Thoroughbred looked up and whinnied, backing up in his stall.

"Easy, Asmodeus." William spoke softly, reaching out a hand for the horse to sniff. Asmodeus snorted but resigned to hesitantly sniffing his master's hand, lipping it curiously. William smiled. "There's a good boy." He looked deeper into the stall and found that the horse had made a mess of manure in on one of the corners. Stepping into the stall, William coaxed Asmodeus into a calm mood before he attached a shank to his halter and led him out to a small patch of pasture to graze. Then, he grabbed a pitchfork and returned to the horse's stall, where he cleaned out the manure and laid down fresh bedding and some oats. Asmodeus could eat those after the morning ride. William fetched a bridle, saddle and blanket, carrying them out to the pasture and whistled several times for the Thoroughbred. Asmodeus looked up almost blithely and continued to munch on grass, pausing to take a few steps in between eating each mouthful.

"Asmodeus…" William slowly took a step toward him with the saddle blanket. The stallion stiffened. "Easy now." The master reached the mount and gently stroked his nose before walking over to his left side and throwing the blanket over his back. Asmodeus tossed his head, but William grabbed his halter and held him still. "We've made it this far; let's try for the saddle."

William backed away and fetched the saddle. Once more, he approached the stallion and stroked his nose before moving to the left side and hoisting the saddle on Asmodeus, tightened the cinch and straps; then, he adjusted the stirrups. Next came the bridle. Asmodeus tried to dance around but William held on to his shank for a moment before fetching the contraption. The horse's eyes rolled, revealing white. William remained calm and slowly slipped the horse's bridle down, past his nose, keeping it buckled behind his ears.

"Calm down, Asmodeus." He said softly, lifting the bit to the stallion's mouth. Asmodeus lifted his head up, closing his mouth, eyes flickering.

William lowered the bridle and grabbed hold of the halter, pulling the horse's head down and tried again. Reluctantly, Asmodeus opened his mouth and accepted the bit, chewing on it while the master moved the bridle over his head and removed the halter. William gave a rare, broad smile of approval as everything fell into place.

"Well that's a first. Good boy." He patted the stallion's neck before checking the cinch. Then, with certain quickness, he mounted and clucked encouragingly to his mount. Asmodeus danced in circles and then started into a trot. His gate was wild and strong; William would need to temper it. Pulling on the reins and digging his heels into the horse's sides, he commanded Asmodeus to slow his trot ever so slightly and turned him in a circle. The horse obeyed and within minutes, his gate became more acceptable. William patted him on the neck and chirped again, this time urging his mount into a gallop. Asmodeus was given his head and rushed forward, the muscles of his hind legs expanding and contracting with the speed and power of a heathen. The horse's nostrils flared as he flew across the pasture with William astride each listening to the other's rhythm.

William took him twice hard around the pasture and then slowed him to a walk back to the stables where he dismounted and removed the saddle, blanket and bridle, shutting Asmodeus in his stall while he retrieved the halter and shank from the pasture. Then he returned, placed the halter and lead rope on the horse, and led him out for brushing, working his coat to a shine.

Once he was finished, he led Asmodeus back to pasture, pocketing an apple slice for the horse on the way out. Asmodeus mouthed William's left pocket, searching for the hidden treat. The master smirked and took the treat out, hiding it behind his back.

"Where is it?" He asked teasingly.

Asmodeus' ears pricked and he stepped forward, sniffing William's face, shoulders, and pockets. Finding those places to be empty, he stepped behind his master and found the apple slice, shoving William forward with his face.

"Naughty boy!" William chuckled, his icy eyes glinting playfully in the sunlight. "You have done well this morning, Asmodeus."


	9. Chapter 9

Two years had passed. William spent less and less time in Liverpool and more time in London, where he had managed to scrounge enough money find a place of his own. How he managed to care for Asmodeus was nothing short of luck: William had nearly begged a pub keeper named Aaron into allowing him to keep his horse behind his pub if he would be allowed to work at the counter for coin and board. William had brought little with him; Asmodeus, his tack, some rations, two sets of clothes, one pair of boots, one pair of shoes, and some of his mother's belongings. Any other essentials, he bought in London.

It was midday, and William was just scrubbing the pub counter down when a young man with sandy hair and brown eyes ambled in. With one look, Tavington could tell that the man was inebriated.

"'Rrink," He slurred.

Throwing the rag he was holding down on the wooden counter, William reached for a pint and filled it with ale.

"Here you are," He spoke, looking directly at the man, who took the pint greedily, sloshing the drink down his front and on the table.

William turned away and went back to scrubbing the counter, waiting for more people to enter the pub.

"Your hands are blistering," Aaron, the pub keeper approached William but kept his distance.

"It is nothing… He's drunk," William murmured, gesturing at the sandy haired man who slumped in his chair, pint consumed.

"What else is new," Aaron smirked.

"It irritates me."

"Don't work here then."

"Where else do I have to go?"

"You're absolutely right…" Aaron smiled. "Pour me a pint of whisky?"

William nodded and poured him a pint before looking up to see a woman enter the pub alone.

"Begging your pardon, Miss, but are you lost," He asked.

The woman giggled, twisting her fingers around her ashy blonde hair. William's eyes widened in surprise.

"Kate," He whispered.

"Oh no," The woman laughed. "I am Marie."

William frowned.

"I should have known. Your eyes are brown," He said flatly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" The woman asked, slightly affronted.

"Nothing… Are you lost?"

Marie smiled and placed her left hand over his and grinned coyly.

"No. I came here of my own accord. _Alone_."

Tavington clenched his jaw but did not move his hand.

"Miss, this is no place for a lady; especially a lady _unaccompanied_."

"Oh I am quite sure I can take care of myself. What is your name," She asked boldly, flitting dainty fingers across his hand.

"Tavington! Don't just stand there! Get the woman a drink!"

Tavington signed and did as he was told, fetching the woman a glass of wine. She pouted.

"Surely you can do better than that. A pint of whisky, perhaps?"

"Very well."

"Tavington, is it," Marie asked as he fetched her some whisky.

William nodded tersely.

"Not a common name, is it? Tell me, where do you come from?"

"Up north." William replied in a short voice, growing red.

Marie took a deep drink from her pint and looked up, grinning and unfazed. She shifted her light blue skirts to reveal soft, fair legs. William looked away.

"Are you married, Tavington," She asked.

"Yes." William lied.

"Oh pooh. We could have so much fun. I'm not asking for pay; not tonight, anyway," She said, lowering her voice to a seductive tone. "Where is your wife?"

"Back up north."

Marie frowned.

"You simply just left her there? My my, you are trouble…"

William rolled his eyes. Truly, Marie was attractive enough, but her personality was something to be desired. Still, he couldn't help but picture her with a pint in her belly and naked. He turned away and went back to the counter, feeling himself grow hot.

For another six hours, William worked the counter, and Marie never left the pub. She sat at the same table, ordering pint after pint soliciting flirtatious glances and comments from the men in the pub. Tavington's shift was over and he thought that the woman had had quite enough to drink. Striding over to her, he took a half filled pint out of her hand and spoke, "Now that is enough."

"Tarrington," She slurred, laughing. "I am finnne."

Marie attempted to get up but stumbled into William and he dropped the pint, spilling its contents on the floor.

"Enough," He hissed, grabbing her shoulders and guiding her to the back of the pub, where a small, narrow staircase led to his and Aaron's rooms. "In here…" William led her into a small room and all but dropped her unceremoniously on his small, straw cot. "Now, stay." William left, slamming the door behind him.

Making his way around the back of the pub to Asmodeus' stall. The horse raised his head and nickered. Tavington said nothing but stepped into the stall and began stroking the stallion's neck absentmindedly.

"Well, you're a-" William cut himself off at the sound of vomiting coming from his bedroom window. Sighing, he left Asmodeus in his stall and made his way back to his room, where he found Marie hunched in the far left corner of the room, regurgitating.

"Thought you said you could take care of yourself," Tavington said in a brusque voice. Marie looked piteously at him. William groaned and left the room to retrieve a pail and some water for her.

"Use this. And drink some water." With that, he left once more, got a mop and bucket, and cleaned the bile off of his floor. Once he had finished, William looked back at Marie. She had settled herself on his cot with the water he had offered her. She looked half asleep.

"You can stay here for the night. I will be out back," William said resignedly.

"Wait- Where is my kiss?"

"You have a headache."

"And a kiss will make it _all_ better."

"You're trying my patience," William growled.

"Kiss me…" She purred.

"No."

"Kiss me," Marie demanded.

"No," William raised his hand to her but she caught it and pulled him close with surprising strength and began to kiss him with a drunken passion. William refused at first but when she flicked her tongue over his lips he was lost, hands roving all over her body, possessing it. Marie shivered with pleasure and bit William's neck, eliciting a moan from Tavington. He pushed her further onto the cot and onto her back.

"Your skirts…"

Marie eagerly obliged and William went into her, the first few thrust filled with brutal pleasure. Within minutes, both were spent, panting together in the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

Fall had barely begun. William awoke with a groan just before dawn, a headache pounding in his temples. He looked to his left, where a woman with straight, dark brown hair slept soundly beside him, her clothes discarded carelessly at the foot of his cot.

_So that is what happened last night…_ he thought, shivering as a draft blew through the only window in his room. Feeling in the darkness for his breeches, William bumped the woman beside him and she moaned softly, turning in her sleep. Once he had his breeches on, William left the woman lying in his bed and walked soundlessly downstairs and just out of the pub to where his white linen shirt hung. Pulling it down from the clothesline, he pressed it to his face, inhaling the fresh scent. Tavington shrugged the shirt over his head and shoulders and walked back inside to his room. The woman was still asleep. To his own fault, William did not know her name. He only knew that he had been drinking the night before and the woman had offered to keep him entertained for the night if he paid her some coin. She smelled like wood-smoke and musk, and had a buxom figure. Their night of coupling lasted for hours, with an endless rise and fall in climax. She worked him into a ragged furor and he pushed her until she screamed in ecstasy. Her intimate parts tasted like fine red wine to his eager tongue. When they had finished, William let her sleep with him, should he find use for her in the morning.

Leaning over to the woman, William nipped her ear, sliding his tongue over her earlobe.

"You should get up. Aaron does not like women staying late here," he whispered. The woman stirred and opened her hazel eyes, blinking up at him with a hazy look on her lightly freckled face.

"Can I not sleep just a little longer," she asked, caressing William's face, noting the light shadow on his cheeks.

William took her hand and gave it a light kiss.

"No."

"You know, it isn't like a gentleman tell a lady to leave on her own after a night of entertainment," the woman spoke in a sly tone as she pulled him down onto the cot next to her.

The corners of Tavington's mouth turned upwards in a mischievous smirk.

"Well, I am _not _a gentleman. I work in a pub."

The woman laughed and leaned over, mocking him with a kiss. William responded by exploring her inviting mouth with his tongue. He was pleased.

"You didn't even ask for my name," she pouted.

"Ah, that I did not. Forgive me," he feigned indifference.

"My name is Katrina. I was born a short block away from this pub."

"Oh? Is that so? You don't come here often," William spoke, leaning into her.

Katrina sighed, tangling her long, pale fingers in his hair.

"You don't call for me. And it is my understanding that Aaron is to be married soon."

"Yes, and then I leave," William replied, burning a trail of hot kisses from her neck to her belly. Katrina shivered and moaned.

"Where will you go," Katrina asked, gasping as William unbuttoned his breeches.

"I don't know," Tavington replied, entering her slowly. Katrina bucked beneath him and whimpered in pleasure. William looked down at her smugly and began biting and sucking on her neck, continuing slow, rhythmic thrusts. The woman rose and fell with him, digging her fingernails into his shoulders as she kissed him greedily.

"Faster…"

William complied until she was moaning so loudly, he had to cover her mouth as he released his seed within her. Shuddering, he rested on top of her for a few moments and allowed his breath to steady before pulling out of her.

"You should go, Katrina," He said, sitting up on the cot, buttoning his breeches. "I have work to do."

Katrina smiled and gave him a lingering kiss, flicking her tongue across his lips. Then, she got up from the cot, dressed quickly and took her pay before leaving. William finished dressing before going downstairs to mop the pub floors. Aaron came downstairs shortly after William begun his work.

"Sounds like you had a good night," he spoke with a yawn.

"I was drunk." William replied simply.

"I see. Well, don't let it get to you. Pour me a drink when you're done with the floors."

William finished work late that night and took Asmodeus with him out on the town to another pub. He wasn't meeting anyone in particular; he wanted to be alone with a good drink and food. He might even read the newsprint.

Ordering a pint of brandy, he took a seat at the back of the pub and looked at the newsprint while waiting for bangers and mash. An article caught his eye; it was about the American colonies. They had been trying to declare their independence from England and were now refusing their taxes. The British Army was enlisting those who were willing to travel to the colonies to fight for the Crown. William set down the newsprint and looked up as the cook brought his meal to him.

"Here you are, sir," The cook, a young man of about fifteen said.

William nodded distractedly, took a bite of mash and then turned back to the newsprint. Something in him had stirred. There was opportunity in the articles he had read. Not to mention, he, like many of his British fellows, had a certain dislike of the colonials' rebellious, embarrassing manners, and believed they needed to be quelled at all costs. A place in the military would grant him that opportunity, as well as a new start in the colonies if the British were able to stamp out the rabble. Of this, he was sure. And, he could build up a name of himself, forgetting the besmirching of his father and grandfather.

Tearing out the articles, he folded them up and pocked them before finishing his meal and drink. Then he set out on Asmodeus back to Aaron's pub, putting the horse up in his stall for the night before he returned to his room. William took out the articles and stared at them. A commission was expensive, but he reasoned that he could save up within a year if he worked extra shifts.

William was so caught up with the possibilities of traveling abroad that he hardly noticed Aaron standing in his doorway, running a hand through short, greying hair.

"You are a dreamer, aren't you," he inquired. "What is it this time?"

"I'm thinking of going to America. It's just a thought for now. Really, it would take some saving up," William replied.

"Let me see those," Aaron gestured to the articles. William handed them to him and he looked them over.

"The military? Fancy yourself a soldier, do you? You'll get yourself killed."

William snorted.

"What rank were you thinking, anyway," Aaron asked, handing him back the scraps of newsprint.

"Well, I don't want to grovel at anyone's ass," he replied shortly. "I will see about buying an officer's commission. Then, I'll take Asmodeus with me and we'll destroy those rabbles," William spoke with a childlike air, his eyes flickering.

Aaron shrugged.

"You reach high, Tavington. Care for a drink? I won't take it from your wages."

"I have to work tomorrow; I should not."

"All right. Just think about it first. It's God's will if you should go or not."

"God doesn't answer prayers, Aaron," William said caustically, "He has abandoned me."

Aaron sighed.

"Good night, Tavington."

With that, he left William alone with the newsprint. Getting up to open his trunk, William stuck the newsprint at the bottom right corner. Then, he went to bed, dreaming of a red coat and adventures in America.


	11. Chapter 11

A year and a half had passed. William's dream of being in the army had finally been realized when he bought himself a commission as a colonel in the British Green Dragoons with the coin he received from selling the Tavington estate. Training was rough. William found he had a gift for fighting, but many of his fellow soldiers were a ragtag bunch with very little skill. The rations he received were hardly worth the bite, but Tavington managed to stomach them. Asmodeus had grown lean on the small bits of hay and oats. William, who was so used to taking orders from his father, was now learning to give them, and with brutal command. His temper, dormant for so many years, flared quickly and he easily intimidated those around him. He slept alone in his tent just out of the way of the other soldiers and officers in training. Occasionally, he made time for a woman, though mostly, he was occupied with his work. There was no family for Tavington to write to, so he spent hours honing his skills as a soldier, learning new tricks in swordplay and how to command his men.

As summer approached, William and the other soldiers counted down the days to when they would board ship to America. Many wrote to their families of their dreams abroad, new land and lavish houses. William too, aspired for land and a new home, where he and Asmodeus would be comfortable. One hot evening, just as Tavington was finishing his rations in his tent, there was the sound of footsteps outside and a foot soldier stepped into the tent. "Sir," the foot soldier addressed William, looking him evenly in the eyes. "You are to report at the docks at dawn with your things."

"Very well, you're dismissed," William replied, assuming an air of nonchalance. The soldier left and Tavington, no longer able to contain his excitement, began to pack his things. Asmodeus, sensing the change of order, whinnied and pawed the ground until William came out of his tent to see him.

"What's the matter, boy," William asked, stroking the stallion's nose. Asmodeus looked at Tavington quizzically. "We are going to America," William spoke to the horse in earnest. "You'll have a new home. We leave in the morning." William slept in a surprisingly sound state that night and awoke with the sound of the ship's bell. Stumbling out of his tent with his things, he handed his trunk to a camp hand and saddled Asmodeus, before riding out to port.

"Who're yew?" A man with scraggly gray hair and stubble greeted him at the gangplank. "William Tavington, Green Dragoons." William replied crisply, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "Papers?" William reached into his saddle bag, pulled out his commission and handed it to the man. He looked it over briefly.

"This yer firs' trip overseas?" He asked.

"Mind your own business!" William snapped, glaring down at him.

"Fine, it'll be bottom deck for you and your 'orse. Don' drink tew much lest ya get yaself seasick." William snorted and led a wary Asmodeus onto the gangplank, pausing when Asmodeus pulled up and neighed loudly.

"Come on, boy." He pulled the horse forward, pausing once he was on deck to look back at London. The weather was dreary, the Thames grey. Hopefully, he would see none of this for as long as he was willing. Leading Asmodeus below deck, William was directed to a small, cramped stall with little hay on the wooden floor. His own tiny room wasn't far away. Asmodeus looked ready to bolt. There was no pasture and he was nearly too big for the stall.

"It's what we have, Asmodeus." William spoke in a resigned tone, leading Asmodeus into his stall next to a grey Thoroughbred gelding who peered curiously out of his stall at his neighbor. William offered Asmodeus a carrot to calm him down and he took it, chewing it distractedly for a few moments before becoming upset once more and stomped the floor. Tavington shook his head and walked back to his bunk. The room had no windows and the bed was built into the ship. He was lucky that again, he did not have to share. Digging through his trunk, William took out his mother's ring. It was a simple gold band and he almost did not know why he kept it. After all, his father had given it to her. She wore it religiously. Hesitantly, he slipped it on his left little finger; it was the only one that the ring fit on.

Suddenly, the sound of a knock on his door startled him and he looked up. "Come in," he called.

A young boy of about ten stood in the doorway with a tray of dry bread and water. "Something to eat, sir?"

William stood up and accepted the food from the boy, waving him away in dismissal. He ate the bread first. It tasted bitter; then he tried the water; it was stale, but he managed a few more bites of his meal. Once he was finished, he carefully removed his uniform and got dressed in casual clothing. The ship was still at the dock as more soldiers poured into the decks. Wondering how Asmodeus was settling, William left his bunk and went to where the horses were kept. There, he found his stallion sniffing tolerantly at the grey Thoroughbred gelding next to him.

"Found a friend, did you? Well that's a first," Tavington said, patting the two horses in turn.

Suddenly, the boat rocked and they were off on their journey to America.

The sea was calm for the first few hours of the voyage. William grew restless below decks and went above to watch the sea. He was fascinated. For miles, the sea and sky stretched out in an endless blue. Tavington had never seen such a thing. Gulls dived in and out of the water, searching for fish and other debris dropped by the ship. Drawing the spyglass out from the satchel he carried with him, William aimed it at the birds to get a better view. A rippling just below the ship caught his attention; a shadow appeared and he caught a dolphin surfing at the ship's bow. William followed the creature for the next few minutes before one of the shipmates came up to him and said, "Yew lookin' at 'im? 'E's trouble. Eats our fish."

William put down the spyglass and glared at the shipmate, losing the dolphin to the waves. The shipmate quirked a brow and walked off, muttering, "City folk; dun know nuthin' abou' the sea. Just interested 'n the pritty things."

Tavington took out the spyglass once more and scanned the surface of the sea for signs of animal life, but all he saw were gulls, so he took a short walk from one end of the ship to the other before going back below decks.

Late in the night on the first night of his voyage, William rested in his bunk, listening to the waves and the rocking of the ship. Staring at the door to his bunk, William decided to light a candle and check on Asmodeus. Perhaps he would get some journal writing finished while he was at it.

Finding the horse resting in his stall, William pulled up a small stool, set his candle up on a small supply shelf, and began writing.

_Spring_

_First day of sailing. The sea is a wonder unto itself. I could stare endlessly into its blue depths. I only hope to see more of the creatures that inhabit it on my journey to America. So far, the trip has been calm. Asmodeus settled in well enough, but I hope he does not get sick on the trip. _

_I am eager to begin a military career in America. Those rebels need quelling! Every damn one of them! But I hope to also build a home there, as soon as the war is over. Land for a farm will do. Enough for horses and a small family to settle on. Still, it's too early to assume anything. I need to keep my mind focused on the duties ahead of me. The light is almost out; I must be going._


End file.
